Through the Hourglass II
by Raeghann
Summary: I stepped through the hourglass and felt it's sand shower over me like a waterfall. I came out on the other side, in a place I never knew I wanted to be, in a time I didn't know I needed to be in, to a love I didn't know I longed for.
1. Prolouge

Prologue

Time ebbs and flows all around us, moving with us making us feel it as it passes. It can be soft as a summer's breeze or harsh as a hurricane's gale. Like the wind it is untouchable and uncontrollable. As time streams by lives are lived, with happiness, tears, and if we are lucky triumph, but I never felt as though I was in the right place. It was though the life I was leading was not the one I was meant to live. As if there were some great cosmic mix up and I was really supposed to be born in a different time and a different place. Even when I was at my happiest something was missing.

I know I am not alone. There are a few of us out there that live life because we have to live it, but really find ourselves more at home trying to relive an age that has passed. We are those who have eyes that see more than others, that know early on more than others. That understands the views and ideals of time that seems archaic in our own society. Possibly we have old souls. Maybe we are people who have lived many lives and the one we long for is the one we loved most of all. Maybe we left someone we loved behind there, someone we have yet to find again. Or perhaps these ideas are mere fancies and it is as simple as it is where we truly belong. I don't believe in mistakes, just fate and for those that have never felt it's guiding hand trust me it exists.

Those of us that know the feelings I have previously mentioned, often learn to cope with feeling of displacement by trying to momentarily relive time through acting, writing, or reading. These are unfortunately the only outlets afforded to us, but what if you could really do it? What if someone took time in their hands and blessed those few with a chance to live when they were meant to live, in a time they were meant to know, that in their hearts they know they really belonged in. And if we could do it, once we got there would we find we understood as much as we really needed to?

Therein lies the question. Can someone from the future ever truly learn to fit into a society that in all actually is dead in our time? Problems we would face would range anywhere from learning the current slang, to learning the very beliefs of that culture. We are as far from the Victorian morays as we are from the morays of an isolated African tribe. For centuries modesty, particularly for women has been radically different than the ideas of modesty today. Ideals on relationships between man and woman were greatly different than now. Not to mention the differences between the roles and attitudes of women and men. Could one learn to adapt to these differences? Could they manage to become part of society without getting themselves locked up or worse getting themselves killed? How would one live, how would they interact with others, how would they love?

There is the greatest question, what if they fell in love? What if they found that person that we are all looking for? That one who seems to know our very soul? The person that you long to share everything with? How would you tell them, or would you? Would you live a half lie with someone that you cared so much for? Or would you admit the truth? And if you admitted the truth would they believe you or turn from you? These were questions I never pondered, but were answered for me.

I have left this story in the hands of my dearest friend with the wish that she pass it on to others. If happened to me it could happen to others, and it is my hope that they learn from the mistakes I made. The one of greatest lessons I can offer that I have learned is that life is life, whether you live in the past or present. It is not a storybook, it is not a movie, and it has a way of doing things in it's own way with it's own surprise ending.

That was the hardest part I think. The idea of time travel was so fantastical that for a while I could not believe it was real. I ran up against the very social gaps that I previously mentioned and learned there were reasons for the attitudes and beliefs of that time. Reasons I did not take seriously until brutally forced to. Reasons that kept those that followed its rules safe. My wish is that no one learns this lesson the way I did.

The most important part of my story though, is I went to another time, to another place, and I loved more than sometimes I think is possible. I lived more that I ever could have in my own time. I stepped through the hourglass and felt its sand shower over me like a waterfall. I came out on the other side, in a place I never knew I wanted to be, in a time I didn't know I needed to be in, to a love I didn't know I longed for. For that I will be eternally grateful to the hand that guided me there.

Briar Fitzgerald


	2. Chapter 1

_Authors Note: A warning to all of those that have read the original Through the Hourglass. This is a different take on Through the Hourglass, hopefully you will like it. I am certain some of you will be disappointed in some of the changes, but my aim is to make it more of a publishable book and less of a take on a Disney movie. Please feel free to let me know what you think. Things will not have changed too much in this chapter, but be prepared in the chapters to come. Thank you all for your support!_

_-Raeghann_

As I sit down to write this I find myself at the age-old quandary of storytellers. Where do I begin? There is a difference between those that tell a story they have created, and those that tell a story they have lived. For the first, the story begins in their mind. However, for the latter, there are thousands of memories rushing through your mind. Each as important as the last. I want to explain my motivation, my thoughts, and my reactions. They happen to be interwoven with events in my life that seem so small or unrelated, but were in fact the small steps of a journey. The steps that led me down my path and helped me make the choices at the crossroads. Some of those events forced me down paths I might not have otherwise taken. Every choice in your life is a step that makes a difference, and creates either positive or negative results. I find as I think about the negative in my life, I know there are things I would change, things I wouldn't have the courage to face again, and things I was forced to deal with or go mad. Still, everyone of those choices brought me closer to where I am now. In the end all you can do is hope that in the end the negative was a way to remind you of the good. After all there would be no light without dark. And somewhere in there, there was a lesson that had to be learned.

I find I digress. There is so much I wish to say, so much to wisdom to impart, if you will. If I run off on a tangent every now and then forgive me. I will do my best to reign myself in. I return to the beginning of my story, to the one memory that seems to stick out the most. The one that seems the best place to start. It was the beginning of this particular path, a path that changed my life, my ambitions, and my personality forever. A path I had been moving toward since my birth, but that was so fantastical I would have never believed it could happen.

So the memory that I am tell you of was a rainy evening in June. It began rather normally enough, truth be told. When I woke that morning, the sun had been shining filling my tent with a warmth that was bordering on hot. It was this warmth that woke me. The sun was bright and painting the inside of my eyelids with shades of red and gold. It wouldn't be long before it would be too warm to bask in the luxury of my sleeping bag and air mattress.

There are few places quite like Colorado, with its combination of dry dirt and hearty vegetation. It's rocky, dusty red mountains, the beautiful, blue-green of it's pines, and the virginal beauty of it's aspens. Colorado has a changing, winsome, charm.

There are places that are so untouched and wild you can almost imagine it will never be tamed. Places where you look out, and you know deep in your heart this is what the pioneers, and mountain men saw. So beautiful in its unspoiled grandeur, it brings tears to your eyes, and a longing that progress will never over run these places.

It's a state in the United States for the senses, where you can use every one of them to enjoy it's beauty. It's beautiful views inspired the song 'America the Beautiful'. Deep in the forest you can see the golden sun filtering through the trees, to fall on the rich red dirt that sparkles from pyrite. You can feel the breeze, with it's warmth on lazy days, and the coolness that can appear rapidly and surprisingly when a storm is coming in. It's perfume is an almost privative smell, with an underlying tone of the weather. You can smell the crispness of the snow flying on the back of the wind, and the damp dark smell of rain. A smell that I can call to memory at whim.

I let out a sigh and slowly opened my eyes; surprised that for once I had woken on my own. There was a warm lazy scent in the air that urged me to roll over and go back to sleep. It was the scent of the mountains. A combination of dust, earth, and the warmed sap of a pine tree. With an underlying coolness that was fading from the air as early morning dissolved.

I almost gave into the urge for laziness, but one glance at the clock sent me flying up with my heart racing. I was late, not an uncommon affliction for me. I know it's annoying, and inconvenient habit, but it was one I found near to impossible to break. However, when it came to the Renaissance Festival, where I was working, it meant a butt chewing. I was most certainly not in the mood for it. Of course, I'm not sure you ever are in the mood for it. Let's just say this was one of the defiantly not a time when it would have been handled with the most grace.

"Ugh." I growled as I noticed the taste of stale alcohol and the slightly reeling feeling of being on the verge of a hangover. That tipsy feeling that lets you know you aren't quite sober yet, despite the sleep. I tilted my head as I do every morning to work out the stiffness in my neck, and found I had crick in my neck. There was a slight headache in the back of my head, whether from the aforementioned possible hangover, or from sleeping in hair rollers, I wasn't quite sure. I groaned at the fact I had passed out still in my clothing from the night before. There is nothing worse than waking up in what you wore the night before, especially when it's jeans.

"Damn and hell." I muttered rising blurredly into that uncomfortably, hunched position one must stand in when one attempts to open their tent. "I was here last night so I could be up on time."

I fumbled for the zipper and managed to pull it open with only a minor amount of cursing. Glancing about the camp I found no one. It seemed everyone had run off and left me. Cursing some more about the inconsistency of friends I stumbled out into the morning.

I couldn't help being a bit miffed, all my friends knew I was not a morning person. They also knew I had a tendency to roll over and hit the snooze button on my alarm clock. It effectually rendered the object relatively useless. Beth had even asked me once why I even bothered with it, honestly I'm not sure I will ever have an answer for that.

Beth, now she was my savior. The woman who brought orderliness and timeliness into my life. The woman whose five-year-old daughter Mae was generally up at first light dragging her poor mother with her. Beth typically let me sleep until I absolutely had to get up. Then-with glee-she beat on my tent. By doing this, she would cause the condensation that had gathered at the top of my tent to come raining down on me. This had the effect of bringing me awake and cursing. And while this often got me off to a grumpy start, I wasn't late.

Mumbling about the general inconsideration of others I managed to relieve my bladder and pull my costume bag from the back of my car. The rest was a haze as I ran around like a chicken without a head, pulling curlers from my hair while attempting to pull on a pair of stockings. The goal of course was to manage this without putting a run in my stockings. Not an easy feat to accomplish, but it was something I somehow managed. Next came the chemise. With a quick look around to make certain I was alone I whipped off my shirt and tossed the chemise over my head. The great thing about a chemise is that it's like a granny night gown and rather tent like. It makes changing into or out of everything else much easier. I slipped my bloomers on under the chemise and then wrapped my skirt around my waist. The next step was to attached to my belt all the various things that made up my utilibelt.

"Cup, pouch, dagger." I said to no one in particular as I hooked the belt together and threw it over my shoulder. The various things attached to it, bounced on the ribbons or bits of leather lace that held them on; and clanged together merrily. I grabbed my corset and wrapped it around my middle.

With a sigh I started off to meet my fate, most likely my doom. I stopped in mid-stride realizing I had almost left my shoes and had to turn back. With another sigh I tied off the top part of my corset for a moment, as I reached in my bag for my shoes. I tied the laces together and threw them over the other shoulder.

I found myself walking as though I were trying to balance on the edge of a knife as I laced myself into my corset. There were rocks everywhere, just waiting to stub my toe or poke painfully into the pad of my foot. I grumbled at dust that was already collecting around my feet, dirtying my white stockings. It wasn't anything knew, but frustrating all the same. The dirt and dust around the grounds turned anything white a dull, dingy, beige.

"Where's your hat?" a voice asked as I neared the gate. The guard was doing his usual attempt at looking official. Not only that, it was a new guard, one that hadn't learned all the cast members yet. Which meant I was going to have to dig out my badge from my pouch, while he enjoyed a power trip. Have I already mentioned this was not starting out the be the greatest of days?

If the voice that had dared to speak to me hadn't belonged to Adam, one of my oldest friends, I might have caused them bodily injury. The last thing I needed at that moment was one more reason to be frustrated. I was now going to have to go back to the tent and track down my hat, which by the was was notorious for disappearing. Anna would have a conniption if I turned up to work the day without something on my head. Henry the VIII on cast was currently married to Anne Boleyn, and the one of the girls was playing Kathryn Howard. It was really ridiculous, Kathryn Howard was eight at the time Anne Boleyn was married to Henry VIII. She was only eleven when Anne was beheaded, and somehow it was fine for a sixteen year old girl to be playing Kathryn, but if I forgot something to cover my head I would get a lecture. It was all far too much to handle without my usual dose of caffeine to jump start my system.

I glanced back to see Adam's blue eyes dancing. The bastard knew exactly how much he was irritating me and he was enjoying it. I sighed, if it hadn't been for the slight crush I had on Adam for years I might very well have knocked him over the head with something. Even my mother had been careful when talking to me first thing in the morning.

"Damn it." I snapped for the hundredth time. I weighed my options, if I didn't turn up soon, hat or not I might be out of a job. Not that it was the cushiest, or best paying job I had, but I enjoyed what I did. Even if it was only on the weekends. I decided not to bother to with the hat. It was one more thing I could only hope Anna wouldn't notice.

"And you forgot to put your shoes on first." Adam said amusement coloring his voice and setting my teeth on edge. I growled under my breath and offered him a tight smile. The things one does for hormones. I chose not to say anything in response, not trusting myself to keep my smart mouth in line. It was hell to attempt to tie shoes when one wore a corset. It forced you to bend at the hips instead of the waist and made it difficult at best to bend at all. Breathing while doing this was most certainly out of the question.

"And you're late." he continued.

"Could you overstate the obvious anymore?" I growled giving up my attempt to keep a reign on my temper as I graced him with my best glare.

"Drinking contest with Morai?" he asked though it was a question he knew the answer too. After all he had there later than either of us and joined in when he was settled. I was pleased as I remembered he still had to be helped off to his tent since he couldn't walk straight. We had effectively drunk him under the table. My slight smile changed quickly to a scowl as I glared at him again for the grave insult of managing to get drunker than I and still look cheerful. He didn't look in the least worse for the wear in fact, he smiled charmingly. It was all I could do not to bare my teeth at him and growl in warning.

He knew he was balancing on a dangerous edge, but he continued to smile at me as he slipped my shoes from my shoulder. I blinked in surprise as he laid a hand on my shoulder to stop me and knelt in front of me. "Lace your corset, the quicker you get in there the less likely Anna will ever realize you missed the first part of the cast meeting.

"Anna will have noticed, trust me it's the only time she does notice me. As for Morai and I, you know full well we were drinking. Even if you hadn't been there, when in the history of Faire have I managed to turn down any sort of contest?" I asked as he lifted my foot to his knee. I tried with all I was worth not to notice the romantic Cinderella moment.

My head was still spinning slightly and I found myself struggling to stand on one foot as he tied my shoe around my ankle. He grabbed my calf, keeping me from tumbling face first into the dirt. It remained there a minute, and then I felt a momentary caress. It was so brief I wasn't sure exactly what had happened. Since he never raised his head as he quickly switched feet I ignored it. It was far better to be safe than sorry, we had been friends for so long I didn't dare take anything romantically. Though I couldn't help the quick catch in my breath.

"I don't believe there's been a Friday or Saturday night that has been left sacred from your contests." He teased as I switched feet and he laced the other. "So any takers for tonight?"

"I am never drinking again." I vowed as he finished. "Thanks."

"No problem." He replied with the same easygoing attitude that I envied. "I'll catch you later when night has come, and the parties are starting, and yet again you forget your frivolous vow."

"I mean it this time." I told him as we showed the self important fop that worked the security gate our passes. After looking back and forth between our picture badges far too many times, he decided we were who they said were. Adam shook his head as I rolled my eyes at him.

I waved at Adam and watched for a moment as he started off in the opposite direction. It was fine example of a masculine bum. My stomach chose that moment to growl reminding me that I needed to make my morning stop at the bakery. With that in mind I changed my mind and turned the same way Adam had and caught up with him. The bakery was next to the beer booth Adam worked in, and it was an excuse to remain in his company for a few more minutes. Anyone that was looking for me would go there anyway.

"Shouldn't you be headed in the opposite direction?" Adam asked raising an eyebrow curiously and elbowing me. I could see a bit of real concern in his eyes though, and I shrugged as if my heart weren't pounding with the thought of Anna in a snit.

"For what?" I returned, "Whether I go or I don't Anna is going to yell at me the same. At least this way I get a full stomach before I have to face her."

"Good plan." Adam said grinning at me. "And if Anna fires you from cast, Bob will hire you to work in the booth with me."

"Oh heaven help me." I retorted, "Working with a bunch of men that will pinch my butt, that's the summer job for me."

"Awe come on, we haven't once pinched your butt." Adam protested. "I can't say I haven't been tempted though."

I tried as always to take his flirting with a grain of salt and reminding myself that Morai and I had practically grown up with him. Glancing at him now in the sunlight that turned his dark hair to a rich chestnut. Every time I looked at him he reminded me of what they called Black Irish. His relatively fair skin and dark hair combined with his blue eyes were a study in contrasting colors that were stunning when combined.

Shaking myself, I looked up toward the bakery where I could see Alex waving at me. She gave me a thumbs up which was a signal that she had managed to put aside fresh and hot spinach and feta cheese croissant . Having friends in the bakery was a bonus as they knew my weaknesses. Not to mention allowed me to keep from straining my pocketbook. Meals weren't included and everything comes dear at a Renaissance Festival. After all management paid me a contractors wage that pretty well had me volunteering. If I didn't have a job during the week at a local boutique I would have never been able to enjoy my weekends as I did. I looked back at Adam, who was still at my side. It seemed as though he wanted to say something, but wasn't sure quite how to say it. I let him struggle through it, waiting patiently for him to say what he needed to.

"So, you finally decided to grace us with your presence." Morai's voice drifted on the morning breeze that was still blessedly cool. Adam looked both irritated and relieved at the interruption.

"Well my presence would have graced you sooner if you had woken me up this morning." I retorted a little real anger coloring my words. "It isn't as if you all don't know I couldn't wake myself up on time to save my soul."

I looked up to see Morai leaning over the railing of the ramp leading up to the bakery. She was giving me a devilish grin and putting her best assets in the line of sight of the new guy working the beer booth. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the guy ogling. I peeked back at Moria to see a smug look on her face.

"Newbies." I muttered to Adam who nodded in agreement. Adam and any other guy who had worked at the faire for any length of time were relatively unfazed by women whose breasts were pushed up to their chins. Not that they didn't admire a nice set when they came along,like any other good male. However, a patron in short shorts or a mini skirt would have them panting. I think had something to do with the fact that the women that worked at the festival wore skirts that reached our ankles, while the neckline of their chemises plunged accenting exactly what it was supposed to.

"Morai, " I said my voice still a little husky from sleep as I took the few steps to the bakery and picked up my croissant. " You get me some wakey- wakey juice and I'll forget you said anything."

"Sure thing captain." She said giving me a mock salute, which I just rolled my eyes at. Adam had made his escape to the beer booth. I could see him talking with the newbie, who was still ogling at Morai.

"Oh and save it for the customers." I called to Morai who was still showing off for the him. I looked pointedly at her. She gave me a smile and him a wink that brought a rush of color to his cheeks. I shook my head with the sexual innuendo that ran rampant around Ren Faire made most of us fairly difficult to embarrass. Morai laughed and sauntered off in search of the coffee. A few minutes later she was back coffee in hand mixed just the way I liked it . It had to have enough cream and sugar to make it into ice cream. In her other hand she held a garland of flowers, glancing at her snood, I raised an eyebrow at the garland.

"From Adam." She told me catching my question before I even needed to ask it. "Is there something going in that I'm missing Briar? Adam's never bought us anything other than food."

My heart leapt and yet again I had to keep myself from reading into it. After all he had pointed out I needed something on my head, whether it be a hat, garland, or snood.

"So did I miss anything at the cast meeting?" I asked evading her question. She looked at me for a moment and let it go. I smiled at the garland as I took it from her and sighed at the curls I hadn't even taken the time to brush out. I worked through them with my fingers before placing the sweet smelling roses on my head. We sat on a bench and watched people pass us. We weren't on duty at the front this morning which allowed us a few moments of peace before the day started. I took a bracing sip of my coffee, expecting to be informed of Anna's displeasure.

"No the usual stupid pep talk." She sighed and I smiled at her, " Though, Anna was searching for you, but I told her you were helping keep Beth calm until we found Mae. She's not angry."

"What would I do with out you?" I cried throwing my arms around her. Thanking my lucky stars for the reprieve, before I honed in on the worrisome part of her news."Wait, what do you mean after we found Mae?"

"Oh, my beloved daughter decided to follow Daddy inside and they both forgot to tell me." Beth's ironic voice said from behind me. I didn't even turn around; I knew she would sit on the bench next to me anyway. "Sorry about not waking you."

I shrugged as there was nothing that could be changed about it and it wasn't as if it was everyone hadn't a good reason to forget me. As long as Anna wasn't going to kill me it was all right in my world. I had a full day ahead of me dealing with patrons, who asked stupid questions. Why let this bother me? I reminded myself it could be much worse.

My upbeat attitude lasted for about three quarters of the day when I found out it could be definitely worse. The rain beat down on the ground in front of me and I watched people scurry from cover to cover, trying not to get wet as they ran for the front gate and their cars. Fat chance they had, it was pouring like God had sent Noah's flood for a second time. I couldn't believe it, not ten minutes ago it had been clear as a bell, not even a cloud in the sky.

So there I was crammed cheek to jowl with a bunch of people I didn't know under the awning of the soft drink booth. My dress was muddy, my shoes squelchy, and I had put myself through the torture of sleeping on curlers the night before only to have it turned into a tangled mess.

"Hairspray is ultimate cement." I grumbled, feeling rather like a drowned rat. I glanced about trying to find another awing within running distance with some room. The dirty old man that stood only inches away was giving me lewd looks and I had a feeling he was about to try something.

"Hey Briar." A voice drawled drawing my attention away from the old man to look for who had called my name. A knot of people moved and I saw Beth coming toward me with a mud-splattered Mae in tow. Mae must have some how managed to get away from her mother long enough to hit a few puddles. From the look on Beth's face and the splatters on her own skirt Mae had gotten them both.

"Looks like your mother is going to spend the night soaking your chemise munchkin." I said to Mae, she just giggled and stomped in the puddle directly in front of me. Muddy water splashed all over my skirt and into my already sopping wet shoes. I suppose I had asked for it,but I looked toward the heavens for some divine patience.

I thanked God as at that moment a loud bang echoed through the faire grounds signaling the end of the day. I looked down at Mae who grinned at me in all her five year old cuteness and I found I could only smile. You just couldn't stay mad at the brat she was too adorable. Give it a few years and those big brown eyes were going to be giving the male race hell. I could only hope I was off the market by then, because I wouldn't stand a chance. I sent up another thanks as the dirty old man left with a look of regret.

"She's got a clean one for tomorrow." Beth breathed in relief "I may just chalk this one up to nature and make her a new one."

We both fell silent and looked up, just as suddenly as it had started the rain had stopped. I glanced at Beth who shrugged as if to say 'that's life' and we both turned for camp. People called out greetings as we passed making it near impossible to make it back to camp in a timely manner. When we finally neared it, we saw Morai huddled in a blanket, only her nose visible through the folds. She bore a distinct resemblance to the Emperor in Star Wars. I laughed and her head swiveled in my direction. Her tongue was visible for a moment as she stuck it out at me, but the blanket remained where it was.

John and Adam stood around looking suitably manly, while scratching their heads, and trying to figure out how to start a fire. They had neglected to cover the wood with the tarp we kept for just such occasions. Naturally, it was soaked through, if only because we needed it now. It was a good thing that the gas station down the road had dry wood. It occurred to me that we might want to get a move on in that direction if we wanted to find any. Chances were we weren't the only one with wet wood, and everyone that was camping on the grounds that evening would have the same idea.

"So who's going to go get wood?" John asked as if reading my thoughts.

"Not me, I made the beer run last night." I responded shivering, as the cold set in and my dripping wet costuming making me that much colder. I reached for my laces to begin getting out of costuming when Morai stopped me.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Morai called, "Unless you want to put on your clean one, Anna told us we have to meet at the Tudor stage for a cast shin dig. Costume required of course."

I groaned, so did Beth followed by Mae who didn't have a clue as to what she was groaning about. We all looked at her and she giggled, causing all of us to smile at her. I looked down at my half unlaced corset and contemplated changing into my clean costume, but quickly decided against it. I felt dirty and grimy due to a fine layer of dust that had settled on me when I had been sweating in the hot sun. When the rain had come, it had turned the unpaved walkways into mud, and left streaks in the dirt that had clung to me. I would be happier when I could take a shower and crawl into my sleeping bag.

"Who ever said that wearing a corset in the summer was unbearably hot was an idiot." I said in a whine grabbing my cloak and trying to scoot as close to Morai as possible.

"I believe those were your words, at about two o clock this afternoon." Beth said dryly.

"Well it was ninety-five degrees then." I grumbled wrapping my cloak tighter and looking thoroughly disgruntled. "It feels like its about sixty now and I'm freezing. First everything was so tight that no air could circulate. Now it's just holding all the cold wet fabric against me."

"Welcome to Colorado..." Morai began snuggling up to me and soon we both began to warm up from combined body heat.

"If you don't like the weather, wait a while and it will change." We all finished in unison. It was a phrase that we had been told for as long as any of us could remember. I was certain there were plenty of places in the United States where a sudden storms happened, but only in Colorado had I found it raining in the front yard while the sun shone in the back.

" You know I always hated that phrase." I said grumpily " Almost as much as I hate the righty tighty, lefty loosy thing. It's stupid."

"Mama says if you look like that your face will freeze that way." Mae told me, her impish little face looking up at me earnestly.

"Well mine won't, I am immune." I replied grabbing her and wrapping her up in my cloak with me. She giggled and squirmed for a moment before finally settling down. Beth mouthed a thank you in my direction and I nodded knowing she had been waiting for the right moment to escape to the bathroom Mae free.

"Did you see that weird old lady dressed as a gypsy?" Morai queried. I looked at her curiously searching my mind for someone that might have matched her description that day. There were a lot of oddballs around the Renaissance Festival. They were kind of like carnies with bad English accents. There were those that were a little scary looking, but had good hearts, and the ones didn't. The ones that didn't, well, you learned to pick them out quickly and avoid them.

It may seem odd, but I was surprised that Morai had noticed someone in costume. When you are surrounded by hundreds of people dressed in normal clothes, you would think that those in costume would stick out. At first I think they do, but after a while they seem to just blend in. That was why it was odd that she would specifically notice a woman in costume. The ones that usually stuck out anymore were the Klingons, the Xena's and the William Wallace want-to-bes. I had run across a pack of Klingons earlier that day with Morai and we hadn't been able to resist playing with them. By the time we were done, they had been put in the stocks. When we had wondered off some of the cast members had been jokingly threatening to burn them at the stake. It seems their phazors were worthless against the common rabble.

When we ran into Xenia we both thought about playing, but when I saw the chest stubble from hair that "she" had forgotten to shave we changed our minds. Oddly enough he had looked better than any of the other Xenias so far. As for the William Wallace's, well thankfully there hadn't been any. I knew I'd see one at some point though, there was always at least one guy that thought it would be cool to badly pleat a table cloth and wrap it around himself like it was a kilt. Who in their right mind would think Italian restaurant checks was anything like a tartan? Not to mention, William Wallace never wore a kilt, he was a lowlander, not a highlander and lowlanders wore trews.

Still there had been a really good-looking guy in a kilt. I hadn't been able to resist making him blush by placing the mirror attached to the toe of my shoe between his legs. They were too small to actually see anything, but it was the idea that counted. What could I say? It was my job to harass the patrons. I toyed with him for a while before I attached a blue ribbon to the end of his kilt "for being such a good sport". He thought it was a nice gesture. I wondered how many others had teased him mercilessly for the ribbon. I knew he hadn't heard the _Scotsman_ otherwise he would have realized the significance, rather than smiling innocently. I was pretty sure someone had to have at some point explained it though. I grinned evilly, we were bad, after all being good was no fun.

"You mean the one with the scar?" John asked breaking me out of me reverie of manly, well muscled legs framed by a kilt and boots. I shook my head and tuned in. I caught Adam's questioning look and shrugged, I hadn't seen her.

" She scared Mae half to death." Beth added, I turned to find her walking up arm and arm with her husband Richard. That was odd as well, Mae was not a shy child and she usually took it for granted that everyone loved her. For her to be frightened of an old woman made a shiver run down my spine. It sounded as though she might be one of those people we avoided. I've always trusted the judgment of children and animals. They usually have a pretty good radar for people.

"Well, it's getting late let's go." Richard ordered taking Mae from me. "We'll figure out the fire issue when we get back."

We all protested good-naturedly, but made our way back inside the faire grounds anyway. Morai and I walked together stopping occasionally to point out a constellation in the mass of stars that were overhead. We didn't noticed the old woman dressed in different shades of red and gold, who stepped into our path, until we almost ran her over. She looked at me queerly and then smiled a near toothless grin. I eyed her, she seemed harmless enough, but there was something about her. Seeing the scar that curled from her right eye across her cheek and to her chin I figured that this must be Morai's mysterious gypsy lady.

"You be one of them." She said cryptically, her voice soft and lilting.

"Oh really?" I asked in a voice that told her I was not taking her seriously at all. She was only bordering on the avoid category. I wasn't frightened, despite Mae's unease. I was pretty sure the scar and the lack of teeth would be off putting to a child of Mae's age. Perhaps it had only been her looks that had frightened Mae. I gave her a look of amused indulgence as I responded. "Be one of who?"

"You be one of her children." She responded looking at me as if I knew what she was talking about. Her eyes had an ageless quality about them that made me want to take her seriously. I felt a momentary chill; there was something about her intensity that made me think of a homicidal maniac. "One of those that's lost in time."

"Lady I have no idea what you are talking about." I told her uneasily, as Morai grabbed my arm, and prepared to drag me away. I found I was rooted to the spot. It was as if the woman had put a spell on me, and I couldn't move. She reached out and grabbed my hand, turning it so it was palm up. The wind picked up, playing with my skirts, chilling me.

"It be as I thought." She whispered staring intently at something I couldn't see, but I leaned forward and peered at my own hand anyway.

"Just a palm lady." I said trying to jerk back, but her grip was surprisingly strong. "Everyone has one these days."

Gently she rolled my wrist over to where a simple waxing crescent moon with a single rope of ivy wrapped around it had been branded into my skin. It was surprisingly clear considering I received it as a child. I had gotten too close to the ornate grate in front of the fireplace at my grandmother's house and had paid the price. Oddly it had never become blurry as I had grown. Instead it was as if it had grown with me, eternally looking as it had the day I had received it. It was an irritating excrescence.

"You bear the mark of her kind." She said her voice whispery and odd that was beginning to frightened me.

"I don't know what you are talking about." I said again. "It was an accident, I was stupid and burned myself."

"There are no accidents, fate's hand guides all." She told me as Morai had decided enough was enough, and grabbed my arm, yanking me from the old lady's grasp. Though the old lady attempted to grab me again, Morai had pulled me safely out of reach.

"You are different, have always been different, and always will be different." The lady called as Morai pulled me up the hill, taking a different direction to the Tudor stage. "You feel out of place, as though you were meant for another place and another time."

"Look around." I called back. "We all do. Why do you think we spend two days a week for eight weeks dressed up for crappy pay?"

"But you were truly meant to be." I heard her say as we rounded a corner and were out of sight.

"What did she mean?" Morai whispered her eyes wide looking at me as though I must have a perfectly sensible answer somewhere.

"Do you think I have a clue?" I retorted wanting to just put it out of my mind. There was something about her words that tugged at me. Something that made me want to believe her. Something in me that recognized the truth of her words. I shrugged the feeling off, even if I was in the wrong time, it wasn't as if I could time travel now was it? That wasn't possible, it defied everything logical. However, my life was about to take a turn for the illogical, and there was nothing could prepare me for what was to come.


	3. Chapter 2

We made it to the cast shindig, but surprise of all surprises we were late. Anna glared at us, and we quickly dispersed into the crowd before she could catch us. We suffered through it with as much grace as we could muster. Still the moment we were free to go we were out of there. As we neared the camp we saw a cheery fire had been stared and John standing around looking quite pleased with himself.

"How did you manage it?" I asked looking at him and then at the flames, as I stretched my chilled hands out grateful for the warmth.

"I managed to sneak away about fifteen minutes ago and hit the gas station." He replied Morai sat next to me. We were quite as John bustled around whistling with happiness.

"If you could live in any time it would be the Renaissance right?" she asked suddenly, breaking the silence and looking at me curiously.

"Did you have to bring that back up?" I groaned not ready to fully look at the emotions the crazy lady had invoked.

"Come on just answer the question." Morai said as she handed me some apple cider that I had seen John add a healthy dollop of spiced rum into.

"I wouldn't choose to live in the twentieth century if that's what you mean." I replied hesitantly. "Maybe, though the turn of the century would be interesting."

"The turn of the century?" Moria looked at me as though I was a little odd. It was a look that was not unusual from most people, but Morai and I had been friends for a long time. Long enough that by now she was rather used to my oddness.

"Yeah, there were a lot of inventions. It was Americas Industrial Revolution, it would be cool to live through Americas glory days. The days when America thought it would never get any better than where they were currently at." I told her my voice a little defensive. "I don't know why it interests me, but it does."

Morai just shrugged as if to say 'to each his own', and I let it drop, hoping she would forget about it. Hoping I could forget it, I didn't want to think about the woman's odd words.

After a little while she excused herself to shower. It seemed the newbie had taken interest in her and she had a date. Since they were staying on grounds though I wouldn't have considered it a date, after all they would just be party hopping as they would have done separately. When I said as much Morai told me that the point was they would be party hopping together. I shrugged and burrowed deeper into my cloak watching her wonder off, leaving me alone. Adam hadn't returned yet and John had slipped across the way to the party starting there. Beth had appeared for a few minutes before Richard and Mae had disappeared into the motor home they were currently staying in. It was relatively quiet as I sat there, only the sound of the fire crackling and the noise of laughter across the way intruded on my thoughts.

I was finding it difficult to get up the energy to shower and change into street clothes. The warmth of the fire was nice and the dollop of rum was warming me from the inside out. My mind wondered aimlessly as it usually does when I give it free reign. It wondered over the day and ended as usual with thoughts of my mother. Everyday something reminded me of her, tonight it was the smell of the fire. A smell that I loved and a smell she had loved. When she was alive we used to have these mother-daughter camping trips, they were the highlight of my summer. Now my highlight was getting away from my father and drinking myself stupid every weekend. I found it was leaking into my week day depending on what time I had to be to work. Finally deciding that this train of thought wasn't going to get me anywhere I stood. Perhaps company might cheer me up, and I made my way into the darkness. I headed toward the nearest speck of light which marked the nearest party.

It took me only an hour to realize that I was just not in the mood for partying. There is nothing worse you can do for a foul disposition than try to drink it away. It often makes one surely and disagreeable. I felt as though I was utterly and totally alone, another feeling that tends to make one unpleasant. In the space of an hour I was sure I had covered nearly every party in the camping area, and still I was no closer to feeling better. I couldn't understand it, from the first time I had walked through the faire grounds as an employee I had felt like I belonged. Tonight, however, I felt out of place. So I kept moving until at last I realized that each fire was just as lonely. Each drink, just another way of trying to squelch the feelings of loneliness. One of the hardest things in the world is to be alone amongst a crowd of people. Perhaps it was because no matter how quickly I moved from fire to fire I alway seemed to be a step behind Adam.

Part of me had been hoping to catch him. Perhaps to pin him down finally and have him admit he had feelings for me. I wasn't about to admit mine first, it might ruin the friendship. Which was silly as I think back on in since he probably was thinking the exact same thing.

Having had enough I turned back to my own camp, and my sleeping bag. My melancholy mood would hopefully be cured by sleep and I would wake up in the morning as cheerful as ever. Or at least as cheerful as I got. As I reached my tent though, I saw the bushes next to it rustling and groaned. Unfortunately it was not an uncommon occurrence by this time of night. Most people were on the verge of becoming blitzed whether by booze or drugs. It was lucky that drinking was the worst I did.

For some reason my bushes seemed to be the prime hiding area. Figuring it was just another drunk, I prepared myself to gently shove them in the direction of their camp. I just hoped it wasn't another drunk couple. I was sick of kicking them out of my bushes. Especially when I ended up seeing far more than I wanted to see. It made things awfully embarrassing in the light of say, still it was better than having to listen to them.

I started to call out to give who ever it was fair warning before I came barging in. Out of the bushes came a blur of red and gold. My shriek came out strangled as I took a step back. The person moving toward me with surprising speed gave me little time to do more than that. It came to halt directly in front of me and I realized after a belated moment it was the gypsy lady. She stood silently and cocked her head like a curious bird, waiting for my response.

"Lady." I told her my hand on my chest as I gasped for air. I fought to keep my voice from bellowing in my anger. I felt rather stupid at being frightened by a little old lady." You've got to stop sneaking up on me."

"Here." She said holding out something in her hand. I hesitated for a moment before taking it. Turning it over in my hands I found it was a beautiful necklace. So beautiful I found myself wanting to keep it, my heart lusted for it. " It was meant to be yours. I knew it the moment I saw you."

Caution over road the lust as I realized it looked very old. It looked like an heirloom of some sort, why would this woman give it to me?She didn't know me and it was something that looked costly. Inspecting it a little closer I noticed an inscription ran between the filigree edging and the oval cut stone. I couldn't read the words and didn't recognize the language. The chain was delicate, made of smaller chains twisted together.

"I can't take this." I responded unable to help the bit of reluctance that edged in, for while I was cautious it was still beautiful. I would be a liar if I didn't admit I wanted it.

"Please, take it. Call it a gift, an apology for frightening you earlier." Her voice was urgent, her eyes searching mine in a pleading sort of way. Slowly I nodded pushing away the small part of me that was protesting. Perhaps it was a part of me I should have listened to. She nodded as though she had known what my answer was before I did.

"Be careful, my child, your path will not be easy." She said before turning to walk away.

"My path has never been easy." I said looking at the necklace in my hands wondering what I was going to do with it.

"Why do the weirdos always talk in riddles?" I muttered to myself as I unzipped the door to my tent. So I didn't loose the necklace I clasped it around my neck and started to duck inside.

"Briar." Adam's voice made me turn around, I could barely see him in the darkness. He was outlined from the fire that burned at his back. It was as if he had been tinged with gold.

"Yeah." I said standing, and turning toward him. He didn't respond as he moved toward me. I waited expecting him to say something, but he remained quiet as he reached me. I wasn't expecting his hand to slip into my hair and his other arm to slid around my waist. My brain didn't register as his head descended to mine. His lips brushed mine, gently surprising me with their softness. There was a warmth between us, like a banked fire as he kissed me. Part of me yearned for more as another part of me was excited that he finally had made a move.

"Goodnight." He told me softly, his lips brushing mine for the briefest kiss. "Sleep well, dream sweet."

With those words he left me, the cold slipping around me as his warmth disappeared. I was shocked, excited, and uncertain of what to think. I watched as he slipped into the night, wondering as he did, why he hadn't attempted to press his advantage. I suppose I should have been happy he hadn't tried to push me any further, but I found myself faintly disappointed. My dour mood had vanished as I turned and slipped into my tent. The possibilities were like sunlight to my earlier depression.

In the darkness of my tent, I lay with my head pleasantly swirling thanks in large part to the alcohol I had consumed, and in part with the knowledge that I was wanted. It is a particularly heady feeling to be wanted by a man, though it troubled me a bit to be wanted by someone that had spent such a large part of my life as a friend. Part of me wanted to rush into things. It was the piece of me that had always found Adam attractive. The other more cautious side told me to be very careful. Could I love him? It was the question I had to answer.

I closed my eyes smiling foolishly at the sound of the recorder that whispered through the camp. I could hear soft voices singing along and I hummed under my breath. Things were dying down and soon there would be no more than vague voices speaking softly over the crackling of the various fires lit throughout the grounds. I loosened my laces as I settled myself more comfortably into the various cushions, pillows and sleeping bags that made up my little nest. I was fading and knew I wouldn't last through the complete undressing process. I wiggled out of my skirts leaving me in my chemise and corset. Under my chemise my lace edged bloomers held up my stockings. Slipping out of my shoes seemed a far better idea than dealing with the ribbon ties at the bottom of my bloomers that were forever tangling. I was comfortable enough for the moment. Comfortable to find myself dozing. As I lay there I felt the necklace the odd gypsy lady had given me, slip from over my chemise to slide up until the amulet lay in the hollow of my neck.

Sleepily my mind wondered through my choices, and I found them too difficult, too worrisome at that particular point in time. There were so many what ifs that could rear their ugly heads and spoil things. There was always the chance that it could wind up another failed relationship. It was possible Adam didn't even want a real relationship and was just after a little Ren Faire fling. I wished in that moment fiercely for a simpler time, a simpler place, where women were expected to be married by my age or at least have a few prospects in mind. If they were not already pregnant with their at least first child and most likely their second. A place where my ideals were not out of place. Somewhere that people would understand what it is to want to focus on family. For family to come first in everything, to not be forever warned that I should enjoy myself before children and husband took over. To enjoy being single, to enjoy life as the twentieth century proclaimed was right. Never mind that it shouldn't be that way. Families should be first, wanting to be married and have children was something to be expected and a cherished part of a woman's up bringing. A time when a chest would be set aside for a woman to begin putting treasures for her household in. A time when a man's intentions were relatively plain. Either he wanted to marry you or he didn't and if you were careful you wouldn't get caught up with a man that wanted only one thing. When these men were looked at as cads and a mother would quickly warn you away from such men. If you were smart then you would listen and not give such men a second glance. It was a silly wish for those that can control their hearts are doomed to become cold people. The heart goes where it will and only those strong of heart and faith would live happily. Perhaps not happily ever after, for such things are not as simple as the old fairytales tell us, but take hard work. Still what I was hoping for was a chance at happily ever after. A place where with the knowledge that a promise once given was one that meant forever and was not as easily broken as it is today.

In that moment between wakefulness and sleep I felt the amulet warm. It went from oddly warm to remarkably hot in so short a moment of time I could do little more than roll in an attempt to remove the amulet from my chest. Within seconds it burned so hotly I was certain that it would leave a mark, quickly I scooped it up in my hand. The burn on my wrist felt as it had the night I had received it. It seemed to be pulsing in a wave of pain that was echoed in the amulet, it pulsed under my fingers as though I held a still beating heart. Tears slipped from under my eyelids that seemed to have sealed themselves shut. My head began to spin wildly as I felt a soft powder slipping over and past me. It smelled of age, of dust on a hot summers day, and of ozone. The pulsing spread throughout my body, pain radiating in such a way I writhed from the agony of it. I opened my mouth in a noiseless scream, for the pain had transcended my power over my vocal cords. My eyes opened and I saw darkness swirling through my vision like black ink in clear water. Just when I thought I could take no more, when the pain would surely kill me, it dissipated in waves. Silvery light shined momentarily through inky dark before I let my body go limp and my consciousness go.

When I came to, I found the heat of the pain was cooling. I felt the patter of water across my face as though I lay in rain. The water cooled me, eased my pain, and I rolled to my side. I could smell the dust and sweat coming from my clothing, mixed with the scent of the rose and cinnamon oil I wore at the Festival. My stomach rebelled and I retched helplessly. My eyes silted open and I felt as kitten must when it's eyes finally open. Weakly I lay on some sort of hard cool surface. I could feel spaces under me as though I lay on a brick wall. I could see a puddle of water only inches away from my face raindrops marring it's perfect clear surface.

I came to with voices clamoring in my head each wanting an answer I hadn't heard the question to. The accent was odd and vaguely familiar, though I couldn't quite place it. I wondered faintly where I was, for some reason I didn't think I was where I had started.


	4. Chapter 3

"Damn it! Where in the hell did she come from?" a voice asked sounding all important and highly irritated. I heard a sound as if someone was sidestepping to keep from tripping over something. I realized slowly that, that something was me. I wanted to tell him it wasn't as if I meant for him to trip over me, nor would I be laying where he could trip over me if I could help it.

"Help." I whispered faintly, coughing.

" Ah damn it!" the voice came again. "What am I supposed to do? Some stupid broad drinks herself sick in my alleyway and I'm supposed to help?"

"Maybe she's not drunk." this time it was a female voice that slipped through the fog of my brain like a bell. I looked up as my head pounded with the mother of all migraines.

'Yes,' I thought, 'Listen to her, I had a few drinks, but I'm not drunk. I don't know where I am, or where my tent is. Please help me.'

"Look at her, she's in her nightgown and corset for God's sake." The male cried in disgust. I found myself vaguely embarrassed at my lack of dress, though I knew full well I was more than fully clothed all things considered. It wasn't my fault some prudish man had come across me, but damn it if only he would stop talking and help. "Not to mention the vomit next to her."

"Maybe she's just sick." the female voice put in. "Come on, we can't leave her here in the ally."

"And why the hell not, I'd like to know?" The male hissed. "If she's sick we don't want it. Neither of us can afford to miss a day's wage because we took in some sick girl off the streets."

"If she is drunk then some man took advantage of her. You said yourself she's missing her clothing." the woman said softly and with pity. I shivered harder at the thought. " Are you going to leave some poor drunken, abused woman out in this weather?"

"If she was abused she probably deserved it, and more than likely she got drunk and stripped in the bloody bar before they threw her out." The man growled stomping his feet a bit as though to warm them. I heard him blowing on his hands as thunder boomed ominously overhead.

"Fine, we'll leave her here and hope the bulls come before morning to take away her body." the female said briskly. The air swished around me as she stepped over me and I felt frightened. I could feel myself shivering from the cold. Never before have I felt that cold, the stone under my cheek was like a sub-zero fridge and my clothing was sopping. I tried to lift my head, but found I was weak and the weight of my wet hair was too much for me to manage. I knew if they left me here now I would die from exposure to the elements. Hypothermia would soon be setting in and with no way to get myself warm or even dry I wouldn't survive the night. My father had taught me that in the mountains of Colorado rain was more deadly than snow. Snow you could brush off, rain soaked through your clothing and sapped all the warm from your body.

"She ain't going to die." The male retorted. "She'll crawl off by morning. They always do."

"You're blind as a bat Michal Conlon." the female said in a dismissive tone. "She's shivering and can't even lift her head. If we leave her here she'll die, but if you don't care, then Mama didn't give you an ounce of Christian pity. She'd be disappointed in you and that's the plain truth."

"Why do you always have to bring Ma into it when you don't get your way?" The man responded with a sigh. "Alright."

It was a simple as that one word, alright. Alright and I heard him step closer to me, I could see his boots just in my line of sight. Despite his irritated tone he was gentle as he picked me up. The warmth of his body bled through the wet of my clothing making me shiver at the sudden blessed heat. His eyes burned like blue coals in the flash of lightning that lit up his face. It was a strong face, with a touch of arrogance and puckishness. His lips were almost sweet and begged for kissing, though those eyes advised against it. Deep in the blue as the lightning flashed again I saw the pity the woman had accused him of not having. There were so many emotions in those eyes. Anger and disgust wared with his pity as he carried me.

"I'm sorry." I said in a hoarse, strained whisper responding to his emotions without knowing why. "I'm not drunk...Not sick."

"Well you're sure as hell something between the two." he replied as he carried me up a short flight of stairs and through a stone arched doorway. He hugged me close as I shivered as if trying to transfer some of his body heat to me. "We'll get you fixed up."

The last was said softly enough for only my ears and I found it strangely comforting. Here was a man who had wanted to leave me to die on the stone outside his door, but he promised me he'd fix things and I believed him. The light was dim inside as he carried me up yet another flight of stairs. I caught sight of a lamp that danced with a flame like the old kerosene lamps of the earlier part of the century. There was a black streak up the plaster where the flame had darkened the wall and I closed my eyes again. I was certain I must be dreaming they hadn't had lighting like that in more than a hundred years.

"Gabrielle get the door." He said, his voice vibrating comfortingly in his chest. There was something about him, something that made me want to trust him. I heard the snick of a key unlocking a door and the creak of a door in need of oiling. It was pitch black except for the occasional flash of lightning through the window. There was an odd sound and the tangy smell of a match before light slipped into the room.

I found the ceiling was lined with sturdy beams that were dark against the plaster. There was a water stain near a window that rounded out. A window seat had been built into it and it was covered with a soft looking blue fabric and was heaped with pillows. It struck me as a comfortable place to while away some time people watching. I wondered briefly why I thought people might walk past it. For all I knew it was on the quietest street in the world. It struck me then that I didn't know where in the hell I was. Nor did I know how I had gotten there. It wasn't unusual for me to sleep walk, though most of the time I didn't wonder too far, nor wonder outside. Had I collapsed in my sleep? I struggled against him in panic, but he only held me tighter, his hair gilded in the light. I was weak and unable to put up much of a fight as he set me on a high backed couch and held me down.

"Stop fighting me." he demanded in a voice that told me he was often in charge. " I won't hurt you, and I'm not going to let anyone else hurt you. You're safe here."

"Where...?" I struggled to ask "How..?"

"Don't worry about that now." He told me a sadness in his eyes as he eased his hold on me. Someone just out of my sight handed him a rough cloth and a heavy blanket. Gently his hands finished loosening my corset with an ease that surprised me. It was as if he had dealt with corset lacings often, my chemise was soaked through and I knew even in this light it was practically see- through.

"Perhaps I should do that." the female voice came again. "I'm certain you've had plenty of practice, but I don't think she's interested in you're legendary skills."

"Shut up Gabby." He growled shifting to rise. I made a sound of distress that had him sitting again. I'm not certain why having him near me calmed me, he eyed me knowingly and gave a sigh. "Not another one." he muttered as he took the bit of rough fabric and toweled the wet from my hair. When he reached for the drawstring of my chemise I pushed his hands weakly away. Despite my chilled body my cheeks flushed as I knew I had nothing on under it. His eyes met mine for a moment before he lifted the blanket and turned his head.

"If you won't let me help you and you won't let me leave, then do it yourself and I promise not to look." He said again his voice soft and this time almost gentle. "It's odd to be shy after laying in the street in nothing but your chemise and corset."

I didn't reply, instead with hand shaking so hard I almost was unable to untie the drawstring myself I slipped the wet cloth from my body. As it landed on the floor with a wet plop, he covered me with the blanket without looking. Only when I was decently covered did he look back. He eyed me, his gaze shrewd and holding a touch of lust.

"If there's anything else I'd suggest you remove it or you'll never get warm." He told me and I nodded in response. He stood and made his way to the opposite side of the room. There was the snick and the scent of a match again as he knelt down. I realized as I fought with the ribbons of my bloomers and shimmied out of them he was lighting a fire. I looked to the other light in the room to see a quaint oil lamp sitting on what must be an end table.

"Here." I looked up to see the woman. Her eyes were as vivid as the man, though not blue alone. They shifted from green to blue as the flame of the lamp flickered. Her hair was a honey color, medium brown at the base with soft golden highlights from the sun. She gave me a reassuring smile and a charming dimple flashing in her cheek. She was beautiful, for a moment I could only stare. She gestured again with her hand and I finally noticed the bit of white cotton in her hands. Not knowing what else to do I took it from her hands and found it was a nightgown. Holding out I looked at it for a moment, it was high necked and old fashioned reminding me of Clara's in the _Nutcracker_. Something was off here, something that was just beyond my current comprehension. Having nothing else to wear I accepted it with what I hoped was a grateful smile. It seemed to do the trick as she flashed me another smile and moved off to light the lamps around the room.

The room was lit with a soft glow that was romantic and nostalgic. For a moment I wondered curiously about it, but the electricity had to be off, it had to be. There was no other explanation, after all there was a storm raging outside. I could hear the rain beating against the building. I slipped the nightgown over my head and pulled it down. I looked over at the man to find him still kneeling by the fire watching me intently. I couldn't help but look in return, there was some piece of me that refused to bow to the dominance that was in every line of his body and look away. .

His body was lit from behind by the fire that was just now beginning to flicker merrily. He wore a white, long sleeved shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves, suspenders ran from his pants and over his shoulders. Suspenders were certainly not something I saw every day, unless they were on either old men, or late middle aged men with potbellies and no butt to hold up their jeans. Still, on him I found them strangely attractive. My brain stuttered, but I was so exhausted I couldn't actually process anything. He watched me for a moment before standing and walking to the window. Taking a pillow from among the pile he lifted my head and laid it back.

"Close your eyes." He told me as he brushed away wet tendrils of hair that stuck to my cheeks. For some reason I did as he ordered despite the fact there was a niggling resistance to any sort of direct order. Especially an order from an arrogant male. If I hadn't been in such a state of exhaustion I would have at least made a token argument.

"Don't even think about it big brother." the woman hissed. " We didn't save her for you to take advantage."

"If there is any advantage to be taken, it won't be while she's drunk, sick, or other wise unable to respond." he replied wryly. " I prefer my women ready and willing, but there's no harm in laying the ground work."

"Are there any women that aren't for you Michael?" Gabrielle retorted, I wanted to open my eyes to watch the show, but I found my eyelids would not respond. "And you better not be planning on anything other than laying ground work. She's a mess, and if she's been raped you know she's going to be more vulnerable."

"And if she got drunk in a bar and took off her clothes, then you'll have no reason to be protective." her brother said with a chuckle. His voice was smooth and resonant, like the deepest chord on a guitar, or a shot of smooth whiskey.

" As if we haven't seen enough innocent girls that have been fed too much whiskey by a frisky man." his sister said in an exasperated and teasing tone. " I believe I've seen plenty of your boys use that very same trick. You in fact..."

"I've never taken advantage of a girl that didn't want to be taken advantage of Gabrielle." the man's voice was instantly cold, so cold that it sent a shiver right down my spine. "I've never touched a woman that didn't want it, and I've never lied to them. They may have lied to themselves thinking they can change me. I am what I am. I love women, any kind of women, and if they love me back it's their mistake."

"I know you'd never abuse a woman Michael. I wasn't about to suggest otherwise." Gabrielle's voice was soft now, sweet and understanding. "I know you protect as many as you can. I know you're a good man under all the posturing, and your reputation is that you are if nothing else fair. Between keeping your boys in line and starting at the docks you need some sleep. Go to bed."

"I'll go in a little while. You go ahead." Michael said, there was a scraping-screeching noise of wood against wood. "You got a busy day of sellin' tomorrow and I want you at school, you hear me."

"Yes almighty Master of all Brooklyn." His sister replied in a sugary tone that belied her words.

The only response was a snort. I heard the clink of glass against glass. His footsteps were soft on the floor and if I hadn't heard the creaking of the floor boards I wouldn't have know he was walking toward me.

"What kind of trouble did you find honey?" he said softly, I could tell by his tone he was talking to himself rather than me. He was close enough I could smell the pine scent of gin on his breath. He ran the back of his hand across my cheek. It was the strangest sensation, warmth followed the back of his hand that felt like the golden light of the sunshine against my skin. I managed to slit my eyes open and I saw the bluest eyes I had ever seen in my life looking straight into mine. They were the breathtaking, beautiful, and the knowing eyes of a born Lothario. His lips quirked into a smirk and I knew the endearment he had used in his sentence was as natural to him as breathing.

"You better not be a threat to either me or my sister." he warned his voice soft, his tone like steel. I knew if harm came to either one of them he would break me.

He turned his back and moved just as quietly across the room. I could barely make him out from the shadows of the room. I hears the sound of wood scraping wood and he moved a chair just beyond the shadows. He sat, his drink in one hand as he pulled a cigarette from the front pocket of his shirt. He put it in between those lips I had the sudden urge to kiss. My eyes caught there until the snick of a match and the flaring of light drew my gaze. I looked back to find the match throwing his face into stark relief. I felt the longing for a drag off that cigarette.

"Six months and fifteen days." I whispered reminding myself as I did every time I saw a cigarette of my resolve to quit. He cocked his head at the words he seemed to find completely odd, he took a deep drag and that was the last thing I saw as oblivion claimed me.

The first sense that came back to me was my sense of hearing. Soft noises at first only to be broken by the sound of a door slamming shut. If I had been in full control of my body I would have flinched

"Who's she?" I heard come through the fog that was slowly clearing from my brain. I felt the shadow of pain in the general area of head. I was thankful I was not at my full capacity the headache promised to be the worst I had ever experienced. I saw only gold, scarlet, and black swirling before my eyes. I felt as if I was floating, as if I wasn't quite part of my body any longer, I wondered if I was having a near death experience.

"Just a girl I picked up Jacky-boy." The voice from the night before replied. "Found her outside the building. Probably wouldn't have seen her if I hadn't tripped over her."

"Don't look like your normal girl Spot." The voice that had woken me returned. " So it ain't your idea. She's pretty, but it ain't a soft kind of pretty. You like your girls to be lookers and not so bright."

"Ain't that the truth," Michael or Spot replied. I was beginning to get a little confused and was hoping I would float a little further out of my body so that I might get a good look at the men that were discussing me.

"Yeah, Glim made me take her in, found her sleeping in the street outside." The second voice replied with a sigh. It was familiar and yet not. I couldn't place where I had heard it before."That soft heart of hers is going to be the death of me. Still, the girl's got somethin' if you know what I mean."

"Yeah," the faceless voice replied. I wondered if I was going to be kept in limbo between the after life and my body forever. At the very least I was hoping I would see the people that were talking about me.

The floating feeling left me as I felt warm breath on my face. It was as if the life had suddenly been breathed back into me and I came completely aware with a jolt. The breath was still there and it held the scents of cheap alcohol and stale cigarettes. I grimaced, not something one wants to smell first thing in the morning. I wrinkled my nose in distaste as I struggled to open my gritty eyes.

The first sense that came back to me was my sense of smell. Bacon cooking and the reviving scent of coffee. The next was my sense of touch, the gown I wore was soft a only a really worn piece of cotton could be. The scent that rose from the me was a combination of rose oil, with a faint touch of smoke. The blanket was of scratchy wool and my arms were itchy from it where they weren't covered by cotton.

There was a sharp rapping noise, close to my head. It was a noise like that of metal being tapped against wood, and it was at that moment I wanted to die. I could feel my heart beating in my head, throbbing a rhythm that would have made a techno beat look like child's play. My mouth felt as though I had packed it full of cotton and my stomach was suddenly threatening to revolt. I wondered what was in the beer last night because I had never had a hang over this bad. I had cause to know what one was after all I was frequent friend of Jose and Jack. My family was Italian-Irish; I was born to be able to handle my liquor. Still that didn't mean on occasion I hadn't over done it.

It was at that point I felt a sliver of fear shiver down my spine. I only recognized one of the voices as bits of the previously night filtered through my brain. Everything stopped, my breathing, my heart, and my stomach felt as though I was falling until the first rationalization hit me. It had to have been all part of a really weird dream. Morai must have brought a guy to our campsite. Perhaps the newbie she had been flirting with. I had just incorporated his voice into my dream. My very odd, very vivid, very realistic dream. Perhaps he had even brought a friend that explained the two voices. I could now fall back into oblivion and maybe I would wake up feeling better. As I felt something push against me probing my side and pushing my limp form a little I resolved to have a chat with Morai about this guy. He was either a sadist or really stupid.

"I don't know what Morai told you, but it really is better to let sleeping bears lie." I grumbled with I hoped a high degree of irritation thrown in.

"Ain't it sleeping dogs?" Michael asked his voice sounding amused. It was a commanding and rich voice. It was powerful enough I could feel it to my very bones. I found it odd and rather amusing that in correcting me he sounded as if he were ordering me to say it correctly.

"Who's Morai?" Jack's voice was rather loud. I pulled the pillow from beneath me and put it over my head.

"Don't know, I don't even know this one's name." Michael replied. Oddly they sounded like they were standing directly over me instead of right outside my tent. I felt a hand on my shoulder trying to get me to roll over.

What were they doing in my tent? The fear halted my breath as I threw back the pillow and both eyes came wide open. In my direct sight was a pair of blue- gray eyes looking directly into my own. They were the most beautiful colored eyes I had ever seen. I had noticed they were familiar. In fact as I shrank back into the couch I found myself on, I realized I was looking into the face of the man that had carried me last night. I uttered a shriek that made him jump back into his friend. They both stumbled and went down. He rubbed his hand over his dark blond hair and his lips set themselves into a fine line.

I couldn't help finding him attractive, he was one of those men that people couldn't forget. He was beautiful in a masculine way. His eyes a remarkable shade of blue, his cheekbones high, his jaw strong. However, it wasn't just his looks, he had something else, that something other combined with a self assurance that made him irresistible I knew that women through themselves at him and men wanted to be him. Unfortunately for him that was a black mark against him in my book. I didn't trust men like him. Men like him were always far more trouble than they were worth. I had seen too many of them that had thought far too much of themselves, and not enough of those around them. They walked on anyone that got in their path and to hell with the pain they might inflict. I couldn't help the lip that curled in derision in response to him.

He gave me an arrogant, but assessing look and I glared at him. We stared at each other for a moment my mind fully occupied by him and the irritation he invoked by just being. That's when it hit me, he wasn't from faire and I wasn't at faire. My dream of the night had apparently been reality. My heart resumed it's frantically frightened pace as I squawked and flew up to a sitting position. My head collided with the wood of the edge of the couch, and I fell back cursing and clutching my head. I have to admit it was quite the display of profanity that came from my mouth. A display that seemed to irritate the man in front of me. In fact it down right alarmed him.

"Oh God, make it stop and I will never drink again, I swear." I groaned my head in my hands. My eyes were watering in pain and I brushed at them, wiping the sleep out of my eyes as I did.

"Well that settles it she ain't stayin' here." I heard Michael say.

"And what are ya gonna tell Glimmer when she gets home and this girl's gone?" Jack asked an honest curiosity in his voice. "She's gonna be furious when she finds out you kicked out her latest stray."

"From the mouth on her and the amount of it had to have taken to put her in the condition she was in last night, I bet she can take care of herself." Michael growled. " I'll feed her, but she's outta here as soon as she's done. I don't want Glim tangling herself up with a workin' girl."

"What if she didn't get herself drunk?" Jack asked I glared from under the arm that was rapped around my head. He looked at me with amusement, amusement and an interest that made me bristle in response. "What if she ain't a workin' girl?"

His look belied his questions, I could see from the gleam in his eye his argument was purely for the sake of playing devil's advocate. I wondered what in the hell I had said that gave him the right to look at me like that. I felt as though I were scum of the earth, good enough only to use and throw away. The same looks I had seen the boys give loose girls in high school, only somehow worse. Somehow condemning at the same time. In a matter of minutes I had been demoted to worthless, and no matter how hard I tried to ignore it, it hurt.

"What do I care?" Michael asked I could hear the amusement and derision. "She'll land on her feet, though I wouldn't mind a little payment for helpin' her out."

"And what are you expecting for payment?" I asked stiffly, my heart was beginning to beat faster again. He looked over at me with a smirk that made me feel like a boiling hot shower wasn't going to be enough to make me feel clean again. "I don't know what you think I am, but I assure you I am not going to sleep with you."

"I wasn't lookin' for sleep sweetheart." Michael replied. The endearment rolled off his tongue with an ease that told me he was a man that knew how to pour on the charm. "I don't sleep with women, never met one that was worth wakin' up next to in the mornin'. I sure as hell ain't gonna sleep next to a whore, even if I do appreciate not havin' to do any seducin'."

"What are ya talkin' about Spot, there ain't anythin' you love more than the thrill of the chase." Jack laughed. "You'd rather they put up at least a token of a fight."

"Yeah, but with whore ya always know in the end you're gonna win." Michael said the smirk never leaving his face. "Sometimes it's nice not to have to work for it."

"Who in the hell do you think you are?" I snapped trying to stand up. It took me a few tries, but I finally managed it. Michael reached out to steady me and I jerked back, unfortunately it sent me flying back into the couch and my head once again connected with the wooden frame. I cursed again as the throbbing in my head increased. Whether from rage, from hitting my head, or perhaps just because, my head pounded so hard my eyes were watering. I felt horribly nauseas from the pain. Damn it, I was in a strange place, with men that thought I was a prostitute, and now I had a migraine that made me want to keep hitting my head against the couch until I knocked myself out. I whimpered as I clutched my head and squeezed my eyes against the light coming in the windows.

"Stop playin' at bein' sick." Michael said, it sounded like a combination of warning and exasperation. "I ain't gonna force ya for breakfast. I ain't gonna turn down if ya want to repay me for helpin' ya out. I coulda left you in the alley last night to freeze to death."

I wanted to say something brilliantly witty and incredibly scathing, but the pain made thinking completely out of the question. I held my breath praying for the headache to ease a bit and the nausea to reseed. Part of me was frightened, part of me was confused, and part of me was incredibly insulted. Who were these men? Where was I? What would they do to me? Did they kidnap me? I knew I needed to try and force the pain aside. I needed to assess the situation and try to find a way to escape, but all I could do was clutch my head as the tears began slipping down my cheeks.

"What are ya cryin' for?" I let my eyes crack open and look at Jack who was hovering over me looking confused, and worried. "We ain't gonna hurt ya."

"She's dead white." Michael said his hand going to my forehead. "No fever. Are ya sick?"

"My head." I whispered trying not to sob. "My head...Migraine."

"What in the hell is a migraine?" Jack asked as I rolled to my side. I was going to throw up there was no stopping it. The pain was just too intense to even bother trying. I closed my eyes against the feeling of humiliation at the fact I wasn't going to be able to stop myself from puking all over me, them, and the couch. I felt a hand slip under my head and turn it.

Someone managed to get a bowl under my face as my stomach fully revolted and the most violent bout of retching consumed me. I've been sick many times in my life, but I don't ever remember being as sick as I was then. I felt with every heave of my stomach as though I was being punched in the gut. At the same time it made the pounding in my head turn to a blinding ache. It was as if a vise was being tightened across my head in a pain so intense I could only see a field of white. The retching finally subsided leaving me leaning weakly against a warm body.

The bowl was moved and strong tanned hand came into my view holding a tin cup that on closer inspection had water in it. Following the hand to the arm and up I saw it was Michael. He held the water to my lips to give me a cleansing sip. Tears were sliding down my face in a silent river. I felt raw and humiliated, both at my lack of bodily control and what these boys seemed to see in me. They didn't know a thing about me, but they had judged me and found me wanting. I was less than a person to them. I was a whore to be used for a moment of mindless pleasure and then forgotten. Not one man in my life had ever made me feel as worthless as these two had in a matter of minutes.

On top of this was the feeling that something was off about this whole situation. I felt strong arms come around me and lift me. They cradled me gently as if I were made of spun glass, and at that moment I felt as though I were that fragile. As if I might shatter into a million pieces if so much as the wrong word was said.

"Take that blanket and cover the window Jack." I heard Michael's voice rumble from the chest of the man that was carrying me. " And then get the laudanum from my chest of drawers."

"Laudanum?" I asked weakly as I cracked my eyes open as Michael laid me gently on a lump mattress, his mouth once again compressed into a line.

"My ma used to get headaches like this." He told me as with equal gentleness he lifted my head and put a pillow under it. "Laudanum is the only thing that will help. It'll knock ya out, but you'll feel better when ya wake up."

"No please." I said struggling against him. The last thing I could afford was to be drugged into unconsciousness with these two men that thought I was a hooker.

"I ain't gonna touch ya, and neither will Jack." Michael's voice was soothing as he reached for he bottle that Jack held over me. "We like our women awake and willing. Remember I promised last night no one was gonna hurt ya. I may not my little sister around a whore, but that don't mean I'm gonna take advantage of a sick woman."

"I'm not a whore, stop calling me one." I snapped, grabbing his wrist tightly. He looked into my eyes and considered the fury I was certain he could read very clearly. He looked at me steadily, approval in his own eyes as he uncorked the bottle and tilted it to my lips with his free hand. The horridly bitter taste washed over my tongue making me want to gag all over again.

"Go to sleep, we'll figure out who and what ya are when ya wake up." His eyes never left mine and the staring contest didn't end until the drug began making my head spin pleasantly. It occurred to me at that moment that laudanum hadn't been used as a pain killer in nearly a hundred years. Something was definitely off here. Last night they had been using lamps to light a room that hadn't been used since electricity had become commonly used and now I was being given a drug that was no longer available. Before I could panic at the thought sleep claimed me once more.


	5. Chapter 4

Thanks to my reviewers! It's nice to know that though I'm making some drastic changes to the plot. I'm attemting to keep to the original basis though. Any review is always appreciated and it's always insentive to continue! -Raeghann

I again, my eyes heavy and resistant to opening. Groggy I lay there assessing the state of my head. After a migraine I was hesitant to do anything quickly. The first thing I noticed of course was that my head had come down the pain scale. No longer screaming it was more of a muted growl. My tongue felt thick and my limbs felt heavy, while my head still spun pleasantly.

"The lights are dim, if ya want to open your eyes." the voice sent a shiver down my spine. I knew it and it frightened me. It reminded me of the feeling of wrongness that had prevailed the past few times I had opened my eyes. Something that I hadn't been able to quite put my finger on. Slowly I opened the lids that felt as though they were held shut by heavy weights.

Michael stood over me, his gaze intent, curiosity glinting in those beautiful blue eyes. I looked at him directly for a moment before my lids protested and shut. I forced them open in an almost drunken manner.

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice gravelly and weak. "Where am I?"

He watched me for a moment longer before seating himself next to me. Looking around I noticed for the first time I lay in a bed. The headboard was a simple brass affair that reminded me of the one in my grandmother's spare room. I had loved it for it's old fashioned feel. The faded and patched quilt that was spread over me had a clean smell, even though it looked well worn. My gaze traveled back to the man seated next to me.

"I'm Spot Conlon." He said in a soft voice. The tone was gentle, but there was steel behind it. His jaw was firm, his lips looked inviting. He smirked, noticing immediately I was caught looking at his lips. Looking back up I gave him an irritated look, apparently he was one of _those_ boys. I could see it now, the "playboy", the eternal bachelor, the man that found there were too many to pick from to just settle for one. "You're in Brooklyn."

"Brooklyn?" I asked sitting up quickly, a move I instantly regretted and fell back against the pillows. The pain in my head had not completely subsided, it was a nagging throb that appeared to be getting steadier with each breath I took. "As in Brooklyn, New York?"

"Is there any other Brooklyn ya know about?" He returned my question with one of his own. My eyes narrowed and I looked at him more closely. His bronze hair fell over his brow causing him to tip his head quickly to get it out of his eyes again. It was medium length. I couldn't think of another way to describe it. It wasn't so long he would have to tie it back, but wasn't in any way short. Faded red suspenders lay across his shoulders, over a long sleeved off white button down shirt. The sleeves had been rolled up and the long sleeves of his undershirt pushed back, but just peaking out from the bottom of the sleeve. One question hit me harder than any other and though it seemed silly to ask, the question slipped from my mouth before I could stop it.

"When am I?" The words were horrified as they came out of my mouth. My eyes darting past him taking in the oil lamp that lit the room softly enough it didn't bother my still aching head.

"When?" He looked at me in complete confusion, I'm certain of all the questions he thought I would ask that was the last one he expected.

"What is the date?" I demanded, my breath coming in short gasps. His pants were a faded gray wool, the wall behind him was plastered and whitewashed. The chair he sat on carved and wooden. The floors polished wood, without the rich,darkness that old hardwood has. The most telling feature and the one that made my heart skip a beat was the fact there was no traffic sounds. No taxis blaring their car horns, no traffic skimming past.

I lurched from the bed, unsteady and in only my nightgown as I made my way to the window. It was dark and the lights below me were old gas lamps. They flickered merrily, the ones that were lit that is. People hurried through the night women in long skirts, shawls, and holding themselves with a stiffness no longer known in my time. Men meandered past with caps, coats and scarves it was like a Charles Dickens novel.

"July 28, 1902." He said slowly as though he thought I might be simple minded and might not follow what he was saying otherwise. "What in the hell happened to ya?"

"I don't know, this isn't possible." I breathed my eyes closing and my brain shutting down at the shear impossibility of my current predicament. " Not even slightly possible."

I clenched my eyes closed and and whirled away from the window smacking my elbow in the process. The pain my funny bone instantly sent down my arm told me this was no dream. I opened my eyes again and looked back at the man before me. I searched his face hoping to see a spark of light dancing in his eyes that would tell me he was joking. He gazed steadily back at me wariness in his eyes and not a single dancing light. I sucked in a breath of air and choked on it. My hand flew to the window sill to hold me as my legs gave out. He caught me before I could hit my knees and eased me to the floor. He pounded on my back a few times trying to help me clear my throat. My breath wheezed through my mouth and out again, I was breathing too fast and my head once again began to pound. The pleasant spinning was beginning to go faster and I felt vaguely like I might throw up.

"Put your head between your knees." Spot ordered as shoved my head in the direction of my knees. His hand lingered on the nape of my neck rubbing soothingly. He sent shivers down my spine that I knew he was completely aware of. It sent my hackles up, but didn't help me catch my breath. "Breath slower, in ...and out."

As I forced myself to breathe evenly and closed my eyes to attempt to gain control of myself. My brain was blank. I was so confused I couldn't even coherently think. The shock of his words reverberated throughout my entire body. There was no way, absolutely no way that he could be telling the truth.

"Not possible?" He queried in response to my last statement. He helped me to my feet and half carried me toward the bed. He dumped me into it and sighed before replying. "Sorry sweetheart, it's the truth. How in the hell could it not be the truth?"

He reached past me to the table beside the bed and handed me a folded paper. I took it with shaking hands and slowly raised. It was a newspaper and sure enough July 28, 1902 was what it read. I dropped it as though it were on fire and quickly rolled onto my side with my back facing him. I closed my eyes, tremors slid through my body. I felt his hand on my shoulder and I squeezed my eyes tight hoping somehow this could all be a dream and I would wake up.

"Did ya escape from Kings Park Asylum?" He asked. There was a nervousness under the confident tone. His hand griped tighter as he forced me to roll over. He didn't hurt me exactly, but it wasn't comfortable either. "Open your eyes."

His absolute tone of command had me opening my eyes whether I wanted to or not. I couldn't help the tears that welled up in them. We stared at each other a moment. Him with grown dismay, and me with complete terror. Something weighed against my chest and flashed warm for a moment before the sensation disappeared. It startled me enough, that I stopped blinking back the tears and let one fall. I sniffled as it slipped down my cheek. I closed my eyes again and two more tears slid down my cheeks. I rubbed them away in irritation. I hadn't cried in nearly three years, but for some reason the control I prided myself on was failing me.

"Lets start with something simple." Spot said slowly drawing the words out like he was afraid I might not understand him. "What's your name?"

My eyes snapped open and I glared at him with outrage. At the moment I wasn't sure I could argue against being crazy, but I sure wasn't stupid.

"I'm not stupid, just perhaps a bit touched." I growled. My tears dried almost instantly and I knew my eyes were flashing dangerously. Being called stupid was one of the most insulting things he could have said. Outside of calling me a hooker, but he had called me that the night before. " I don't know what King's Park is and my name is Briar Fitzgerald and you may call me Miss Fitzgerald."

"I see." he replied. Amusement glinted in his eyes as he sat back in his seat. He held himself in a tense manner despite the rather relaxed pose he was affecting. He looked as though he was trying to put me at ease, but ready if I were to suddenly attack him he would be ready. "Well Miss Fitzgerald, who are ya, where do ya come from, and how in the hell did ya end up in a position that forced me to take ya into my home?"

"I don't remember." I said with a touch of uncertainty. The uncertainty was actually how much I could tell him. I knew I was going to have to lie through my teeth, and the closest I stuck to the truth the less likely he would catch me in a lie.

"Ya don't remember?" He repeated. He nodded and his lips twisted into a smirk that told me quite clearly he wasn't buying a bit of it. " Ya were laying out in the street, in the rain, in practically nothing. Ya honestly expect me to believe ya have no idea how ya got there?"

Frantically I wracked my brain, tracing my steps back to what happened just before I fell asleep. The old lady had given me the necklace, Adam had kissed me, and I had laid down in my tent. My heart stumbled at the thought of Adam, he must be frantically worried. Part of me at least hoped he was frantically worried, after all once I got back home I had every intention of striking back up our relationship. Hopefully right where we had left it. Glancing at Spot I was thankful I had Adam, just one thing in my arsenal to keep me from flirting or showing any interest at all. He had an idea I might be interested, but I wasn't about to make it worse. I didn't need him chasing me for real. I had a feeling it would be to my detriment. However, on a positive note more than likely he had a few girls stashed around Brooklyn that would be far more happy than me to be seduced by him.

My mind caught for a moment on the gypsy and I fumbled for the amulet I had fallen asleep with. It hung between my breasts and brought to mind the warmth I had felt in it's general vicinity. It couldn't have been the necklace could it? I caught myself and spent only a moment more before I spoke. The longer I took the more likely he was going to think I was working up a story. Which in all honesty I was, however, he didn't need to know that.

"This old gypsy woman gave me something and I woke up here." I replied evasively. I hoped he would fill in the rest himself. " Made me sicker than a dog. Honestly I thought I might die. Then I woke up this morning with a horrible headache."

He nodded again, his eyes still holding that wary glint as he mulled my story over. There was no way to prove me right and no way to prove me wrong. Though I felt I had been judged and come up short.

"Don't ya know better than to take anything from a gypsy?" he inquired. His eyes still watched me intently as he asked. He had a piercing look that made you feel as if he could look right through you. I shivered feeling like a mouse that was caught by the cat. I breathed an inner sigh of relief while I forced my expression to remain in it's confused state and not to betray a bit of my relief. "Now where do you live _Miss Fitzgerald_? We should probably be getting ya home now. My sister should have something she could lend ya to get home again."

Damn it, how in the hell was I supposed to respond to that. I lived in Colorado in 2009, how did I get back there? Hell even getting to Colorado would be a massive undertaking and cost money I didn't have. I was penniless, alone, and no way to remedy either state. Why hadn't the damn gypsy just killed me?

"I live in Colorado." I said softly looking uncertain. I looked at him and then looked away as though embarrassed. With any luck he would think me shy and harmless. "I started there and woke up here. I really have no idea how I ended up all the way in Brooklyn"

"Colorado?" He was incredulous, completely flummoxed. "You expect me to believe that you were kidnapped by gypsies and dropped in Brooklyn? That you came all the way from Colorado?"

"Do you know where Colorado is?" I asked hopefully. Colorado was an awfully long way away he might not be educated enough to know how far it is, or even exactly where it was.

"Did ya just ask me if I knew where Colorado is?"he looked at me in surprise as though no one else would have been "It would take days to get here by train. You don't expect me believe that you've been drugged by gypsies for days."

I noted he didn't exactly answer my question directly. My gut told me that on occasion he might play word games for his amusement, but more likely it was that he didn't know for certain. If he didn't he certainly wasn't about to admit it. That meant however, I had only the time until he searched out the answer. I also had a feeling it wouldn't be long, he wasn't going to remain ignorant. Not when it could be important. I looked into those eyes that glittered like ice chips and knew he was not a man to jerk around. He was smart, street wise, and strong. He wouldn't take kindly to being treated as though he were stupid.

This was the only man I knew in present day New York, and by present I mean 1902. The time difference aside he was the only person I had to count on. Without him I was sunk. Instinctively I knew that while he might be a hard man, and not always fair, he wouldn't put me on the streets for one reason. I was female.

I watched him shake his head and wonder to the window. He leaned against the wall and looked out into the darkness. He moved with a confidence I knew would draw women like ants to a picnic. I was sure there was no shortage of women in his life, but he was raised from a young age to protect the "weaker" sex. I was pretty certain of my assessment of him, certain enough I betting my life on it at the moment. I could only hope he wasn't the type to force the advantage on an helpless female. I didn't know what choice I would have if he wanted repayment for helping me. Taking it out in trade if you will, trade I was willingly going to want to make.

My mind scrambled as it tried to remember everything I had read or even slightly retained about the time period I was stuck in. My heart beat in my chest like a jackhammer on stubborn sidewalk. What would I do if he threw me on the streets? Where would I go? How would I make a living? How was I going to get home? I was throwing myself on the mercy of a man I knew nothing about.

"Look, your story is ridiculous." Spot finally said looking back at me. His expression let me know he thought I was full of bullshit, but he only had his gut to go on. He looked like a guy that had only his gut to rely on and he was almost never wrong. "But I ain't never turned away someone because I didn't believe their story. If that was the case half the boys that live in this house wouldn't be here. We're all masters of exaggerating the truth. Not to mention gifted I suppose ya could say with attracting trouble.

If ya want to keep ya story to yourself, that's ya choice. I only have two questions and you'd better be honest with me. Do ya have any trouble followin' ya? And are you any danger to me or my sister?"

"No." I replied honestly. I met his eyes and he studied me for a moment before nodding.

"Fine, my sister Glimmer has no problem with sharing her room and the bed with ya. I wouldn't suggest making any trouble with her or ya'll be out. One other thing, you'll pull ya weight around here. None of the boys are allowed to stay for free and neither will you. Ya too old for sellin' papes, so I'll have to put some leads out. We'll see what my birdies can find. Ya will work, ya will pay, and ya won't be workin' on the boys to pay. There's no women allowed in the bunk room while the boys are here, and if I find ya sellin' out of my sister's room, ya'll be out. Got it?"

I nodded still drugged, still confused, still frightened, and still in some pain. I found myself insulted, but too tired to retaliate. I could only lay there weakly as he continued to study me. I continued to look him back directly in the eye refusing to be entirely cowed.

"I'm no whore." I replied. I didn't break our little staring contest and he nodded after a moment. He wouldn't look away first and I knew it so I turned my attention toward the wall. If I looked back at him we would be here all night.

"Ya gotta look at the circumstances Miss Fitzgerald. Ya can't blame for thinkin' it after the way I found ya." His tone softened, but I still didn't look back at him.

"No I don't suppose I can." I said in a resigned tone. Compared to modern day standards I had been fully clothed. Compared to where I was I might as well have been standing around in Victoria's Secret lingerie.

"Are ya still in pain?" he asked in a surprisingly gentle tone. I looked back quickly and winced as the sudden movement cause pain to radiate through my head. He nodded again and handed me a slightly grungy glass filled with a bitter smelling liquid.

I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or irritated at his quick assessments. He was observant and a quick judge. I found myself respecting him for it despite myself. He was one of the few people that could be judge, jury, and executioner without being far off the truth. I was willing to bet he was an instant judge of character and like me would either like or dislike someone after only a few minutes. If he disliked them it would only be a matter of time before they proved why.

He came to side of the bed and held it to my lips when I didn't immediately reach for it. I made a face at the smell, but opened my mouth before he could pinch my nose shut. I felt like a puppy that didn't want to take it's medicine.

"You'll be asleep before Glim gets home, but don't be surprised if you wake up with her." Spot said as he ran a comforting hand through my hair. My eyes were closing as he smiled charmingly at me. I noticed his hand still in my long hair, rubbing a strand of it between his fingers as though testing fine fabric. My heart softened and I smiled at him sleepily. It was a mistake, a single action that started me on my path. My heart warmed at his gentle touch and as I closed my eyes I felt the brush of his lips at the corner of my mouth.

He was one of those men you could easily fall in love with, and he would just as easily break your heart. It wouldn't be something he did on purpose. At least the breaking of your heart. He was a man that would set out to get your heart on a platter, but he would loose interest. It wasn't something he did maliciously, just something that happened. Spot Conlon didn't know it but he was looking for the perfect women, and he often thought he had found her. Unfortunately his expectations were often too high and in the end the women didn't measure up to what he thought he wanted. The real problem was that he didn't really know what he wanted, and those traits he unconsciously chose again and again were what made him leave them.

It certainly didn't hurt his reputation any. If anything it made his boys look up to him more. They wouldn't have thought twice if he had staked his claim on one woman, but they certainly were envious of his ease with the opposite sex. That envy translated into awe and only added to the hero worship. What man doesn't want every woman to want him and a pick of any one he chose? Not only any pick, but that the women felt grateful he chose them? Of course this is all hindsight, and at that moment what I saw was a playboy that needed to be kept at a distance. My heart was too battered to take anymore shattering.


	6. Chapter 5

When I woke again I glanced to my left to see there was a dent in the pillow, and the blanket had been pulled back. Apparently Glimmer had come and gone. The sunlight fell through the window no longer a death ray intent on frying my brain. I rubbed my eyes grimacing at the sleep that had accumulated. I looked around groggily, whatever Spot had given me for the pain had worked, but I still felt a little loopy.

I stood unsteadily and my head spun slightly, it was a pleasant feeling that frightened me a bit. It was something you could get used to, like a buzz that didn't quit 24 hours after drinking. I shook my head and took in my surroundings. It seemed I was still in 1902. I had few choices I could lose my mind over the fact and end up in the insane asylum. Which in this time was a frightening prospect. A lobotomy without pain medication was not my cup of tea, Or I could try to accept it and move on until I could find my way home. I chose door number two.

I looked around me taking stock. It was a small room, barely large enough for the bed and the dresser that stood in it. On the top of the dresser was a porcelain bowl and a pitcher. On the slightly stained whitewashed wall above the dresser was a mirror that bore a crack across a quarter of it. I walked to the dresser, placing my hands on its smooth wooden surface for support as I looked into the mirror.

Looking back was a girl that couldn't quite be called slim. No matter how much I dieted and worked out I could never quite look like the slender sylphs society expected all women to look like in my time. I actually had hips, and breasts that created an hourglass. Yes ladies and gentleman I actually did have an hourglass figure, it was just a larger hourglass than I and the modern concept of beauty wanted.

My face was pale and my eyes large and the green bright. Normally the gray in them muddied the color, but it looked as if the effects of the drug counteracted that. My hair, my one true beauty shined in the light. It was so black it held blue highlights and it waved gently, one lock falling across my shoulder the end curling into a large ringlet. I might have had curly hair like my mother if it hadn't been so thick, heavy, and long. At the moment it was out of control.

I had gotten sopping in that alley way and then gone to sleep. I looked at the dresser top in front of me and with relief I found a wooden comb. I was unsure of myself, frightened even, but as I sat back on the bed and divided my waist length tresses I found myself soothed. Combing my hair had always calmed me. More so if someone else combed it, but it looked as if it were just me, myself, and I at the moment. One hand held hanks of hair as the other combed out the tangles. I hummed softly to myself, no particular song, just a calming, somewhat musical noise that filled the silence. Singing again wasn't one of my particular talents, but I had a pleasant voice. One good enough to put babies to sleep, but not incredible.

As I sat there somewhere a door opened and closed. Male voices followed and I couldn't help my curiosity as I set the comb down on the bedside table and rose. The nightgown I wore moved softly around me as I opened the door and moved down the short hallway in search of the voices. I stopped at the edge of the wall that separated Glimmer's room from the rest of the apartment. They stood in the living area in front of the ashes in the fireplace. It was early in the morning, but already it was warm there was certainly no need for a fire. Spot stood near the bay windows the light falling in behind him. In front of him stood Jack.

"I need ya help Jacky." Spot was saying earnestly. "I ain't gonna let the Bronx run us over. Ox's attacked three of me boys this week. And I can't get my hands on the worthless son of a bitch, to teach him a lesson. I need Manhattan to stand with us."

"I don't know Spot, ya mess with Ox and ya gonna have to deal with Matches." Jack responded. "These turf wars is makin a mess of us newsies. So far Manhattan's stayed neutral territory and I kinda like it like that."

I watched my curiosity completely perked as Spot shifted positions, his stance becoming a fighters. The light shined over him from behind turning his hair to gilt. He almost shimmered looking like a heavenly warrior. I shook my head immediately trying to get rid of that fancy. My heart was thumping, and I was disgusted at the crush that was apparently developing. He might be gorgeous, he might be dangerous, and he might have an animal sexuality that made me want to jump him, but this crush was not going to happen. Isn't it funny that we think we can control our emotions? Isn't it funny we think we can tell ourselves we won't be attracted when we already are?

"We stood with ya Jacky, when ya needed me Brooklyn was there. Ya would've gotten ya asses smashed in the Strike, if we hadn't come." Spot's eyes were flashing a cold flame and his mouth compressed into a thin line. He was magnificent. I figured that while I wasn't exactly out of sight, but I hadn't been noticed I give myself a little break. That moment was probably the beginning of the end.

"I know Spot, I owe ya, but I've got me boys to think about and they come first; ya know?"" Jack sighed. "I wanna help ya really I do, but I ain't gonna risk me boys, if I don't have to. The Strike affected us all, we all were gettin gouged by Pulitzer. This ain't affectin Manhattan right now and until it does, I ain't getting involved and that's all there is to it. I ain't bringin the wrath of the Bronx down on us."

Jack's back was to me and I saw his muscles ripple across his shirt in preparation, though his hands remained clasped on his opposite arms. Spot didn't move, it was like a snake testing the air before striking.

"Ya want the wrath of Brooklyn?" Spot asked calmly. I shivered I knew that calm, it was deadly. The calm before the storm and you did not want to get caught in it. I shrank back a bit until I could just barely see them beyond the wall. Jack shrugged and his body retaining it's nonchalant pose. I had to hand it to him the boy had balls. I felt an instant respect for him. The look on Spot's face gave me chills.

It was at that moment he caught sight of me. His body relaxed and his eyes hooded. Jack noticed the shift and glanced over his shoulder to see what Spot had. They both gave me the once over. It made me want to cover myself, even if I was covered from neck, to ankle, to wrist by the nightgown I wore. Still it wasn't often they were treated the to sight of a woman in her nightgown. There must have been an intimacy at the sight. I was completely oblivious at the time.

"You're up." Spot said, in a gross overstatement of the obvious. I nodded in response not trusting myself to speak. It was likely I would say something smart ass and this was not the moment for it. Spot's eyes glittered like a couple of ice burgs and it was enough to frighten me a bit. They both looked at me as if expecting something.

"What?" I asked looking from one to the other and feeling somewhat stupid. They looked at each other and then looked back at me and I felt like I was missing something obvious.

"Why don't ya go back to Glim's room and I'll be in, in a moment." Spot said quietly, but the tone was an order. I bristled, there was a lingering smell of something that had been cooked and my stomach was a knot of hunger. If I went back into that room, I was certain he would forget me in the obviously important conversation he was having. I could have retreated and waited. I would bet even if he had forgotten and left I could have scrounged something up. Still lack of food makes me cranky, being treated like an annoyance makes me cranky, and damn it these boys had thought I was a whore. Trust me there is little else that can make me as cranky. They had flat out called me one to boot. It was a bad combination all the way around. Discretion is supposed to be the better part of valor, and I don't have it. I can show discretion when it comes to secrets, but when it comes to backing down. Well.. let's just say it's not my strong suit.

"Don't mind me boys." I said sweetly " I'm sure you're little war games are far more important that the fact I haven't eaten in a few days."

Spot just stared at me, I doubt in his entire life a woman had ever not responded without a meek acquiescence. Well, perhaps his sister, but that was an entirely different kettle of fish. He had raised her for the most part and she tended to be like him, with breasts.

"I take it you're expecting me to feed ya." Spot's voice was again calm, frighteningly calm. "Pullin' ya out of the alley wasn't enough? Givin' ya a bed wasn't enough? Givin' ya laudnum for ya headache wasn't enough?"

"Well what the hell did you do those things for if you just intended to starve me?" I asked putting my hands on my hips and raising an eyebrow. My attention was focused on Spot, but out of the corner of my eye I could see the laugh Jack was trying to hide. What I didn't know, was that had Jack let that laugh out he would have been beaten within an inch of his life. Spot had a vicious temper and Jack had already tempted it by refusing to aid the Brooklyn boys.

"Hold on a minute Jack." Spot told the other boy as he stalked across to room toward me. My initial reaction was to take a step back, but my stubborn streak held me in place. I would not be afraid of this man, nor would I back down from him. I think something in me instantly had recognized the alpha male in him. Something knew if I backed down now, I would lose forever. If I let him sense my fear I would have lost among the other women of his life.

What I didn't know is that despite my ability to turn my face into an emotionless mask, my eyes still spoke volumes. When he reached out and grabbed my wrist he could see the fear in my eyes, but he could also see the defiance. It was a combination he had never crossed before in any woman other than his little sister. The only reason she got away with it was because she was his little sister. Both with him and with other men. The other men were too afraid of Spot, and Spot doted on his little sister. Still when it came down to it and she had really pushed even Glimmer knew when to back down. I didn't know him that well, and had chosen the wrong time not to back down. Our eyes locked and once again we were in a staring contest of wills.

"We've been friends a long time Spot, don't go threatinin' me." Jack's voice broke the contact, forcing Spot to look at him. His voice had held a warning even Spot couldn't ignore, his hand tightened on my wrist for a moment. Then he pushed me behind him, a purely defensive move toward me. My heart stuttered and warmed, I silently cursed."Ya alienate us and we may end up fightin against ya too. Now Brooklyn's boys is tough, but not tough enough to handle all the boroughs against ya."

"I'll let ya think on it, cause Ox ain't gonna stay in his territory, or just comin into mine. He's gonna come after ya too, and all ya fancy speeches about it not affectin ya, is gonna be bullshit. When that happens, I'll be waitin." Spot snapped.

"And if that day comes I'll be standin' right next to ya Spot." Jack said his tone promising, and pleading at once. "You're a pitbull Spot, I know this is gonna come up again, but I gotta put my boys first. Ya did the same thing with the strike. Ya didn't join right away did ya? Now I can't risk my boys when there ain't no risk at the moment. The moment there is a even the slightest risk I'm all in. And I'll say that what you say is what I say."

Spot and Jack eyed each other for a moment before Spot nodded. It was not an entirely understanding nod; it was a for the moment I'll let you go nod. Unfortunately Jack turned to go and Spot turned his attention to me. Our eyes met again, and his eyes fell to my lips. The scrutiny at them made me lick them. It's an ingrained response, and one that without fail interests men more. He took a step toward me and I took a step back. My eyes didn't move from his, challenging him even as I tried to move to a more defensible position. I was a sword fighter and it had taught me the senses of a fighter, senses every fighter learns no matter the type. I knew I wouldn't be able to take Spot on hand to hand. I didn't want to retreat, it was something else in my eyes he could read. I was only retreating until I could get in a position to get the upper hand.

I was trained to read the body. The eyes can lie and mislead you in a fight, contrary to popular belief you never watch the eyes. The body might be able to feint, but of you get good enough, you can read it. You're prepared for it. He moved so quickly I didn't see him coming. I found myself back against the wall, his hands pinning my wrists on either side of my head. His head dipped and he kissed me. It shocked me, it was the last thing I was expecting, my mind shut off like a television. I could almost see the color fading into a little square before turning all black. His lips were slightly chapped, but they were warm and well taught. They coaxed me and while the kiss wasn't punishing it wasn't soft either.

His body was against mine not crushing, but my breasts were flattened by his hard chest. Since my mind couldn't engage, my body was free to it's own will. My lips parted the slightest and he could feel the instant surrender. He deepened the kiss, his body moving closer, his hands still braceleting my wrists. It was a kiss like I had never received, every inch of me wanted him in that moment. I didn't care if he pushed me to the floor here and now or managed to drag me into the closest bedroom. As that thought slipped through my blank brain, it suddenly engaged again. Some self preservant part of me started the wheels rolling again. I was responding to him like a strangling man gasps for air. My lips fused to his, kissing even as he kissed me. I was disgusted with myself. Still it had given me the upper hand. He didn't notice at first when I moved my leg, when I caressed his thigh with my knee, but the moment before I could strike he moved back.

I stood there with my knee raised and my hands still on either side of my head. My chest heaved with my uneven breathing and I hated him in that moment for wanting him. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I had never responded like that to anyone, not even Adam. Never mind I didn't know him, and I was not a one night stand kind of girl. My hand flew up and before I could even think I slapped him. Flat out up one side of his face and coming back around with the back of my hand for the other. The instantaneous rage that followed caused me to slip from where I had been pinned and back down the hall. He followed. I glanced back with an eye to the nearest door and slipped into Glimmers room. There was only one way out, the window, and the black metal of the fire escape.

I didn't think as I sprinted for the window only to be tackled inches from it. He rolled me over and pinned my wrists beside my head once more. The anger was flickering in his eyes like blue flames as he straddled me. Fear flashed through me and I struggled as violently as I could, but he was stronger.

"Stop...it." he ground out as he held me down. "Stop fighting me. I ain't gonna hurt ya." I looked into his eyes and he let go of my wrists holding up his hands to show me he meant it. "I don't need to rape a girl to get what I want."

"No but you have no problem accosting her and and kissing her brains out." I snapped.

"Hey, ya there in a nightgown and nothing else." he said somehow making it all my fault. "Not to mention challengin' me in front of Jack. If ya brains fell out while I was kissin' ya it ain't my fault you're so susceptible. Ya sure know what you're doin' in the kissin' department by the way."

"You call me a whore one more time and I'll scratch out your eyes here and now." I hissed. " You can be a virgin and still kiss a man."

"Not like that." he said smirking. "Still if ya say ya ain't a whore I guess I ain't gonna press the point, but as I said before ya want to pay me back for all of my help, I sure would be willin' to oblige."

"Oblige?" I growled my hand fisting. His hand pinned my wrist again before I could punch him. "Oblige, you kissed me you bastard. I in no way made any advances on you. Just because you think you're God's gift to women does not mean I want you. So you kissed me, so what, it wasn't that good of a kiss anyway."

"Not that good?" he chuckled seeing right through the lie. He knew as well as I did, just a few seconds more and I would have been on the floor beneath him. It infuriated me all the more "Sure honey, whatever ya say."

"Honey and sweetheart roll off your tongue like you have absolutely no care for their meaning." I practically spat. "You say it like every woman is a honey or a sweetheart. You take the endearment out of it and sully it. I'm not your honey, I'm not your sweetheart, and I'm not about to have sex with you. Now let me go. I've obviously made a gross error in judgment by trusting you."

He stood up without a word, his eyes following me as I looked around for a moment before breezing past him and heading for the front door. I didn't look back as I reached for the door knob. I was so furious I didn't think of anything as I threw open the door and stepped into the hall. I found myself staring at a handful of boys that were heading both up and down the stairs to my right. They stared right back for only a moment before whispers and chuckles. Embarrassment swirled through me and I couldn't do anything but stare.

A hand grabbed my wrist and dragged me back into the apartment, catcalls and enthusiastic, if not vulgar congratulations following. Spot shut the door, leaning a hand on it, his leanly, but well muscled forearm directly at my eye level. I wanted nothing more than to sink into the floor and disappear. Without realizing it I pulled the amulet from under my shirt, and held it tightly in my hand for comfort. I couldn't meet his eyes.

"So where are ya gonna go?" he asked softly. "Ya didn't have a place last night, were ya lyin'?" I shook my head. "All ya got is the nightgown my sister lent ya, and while I'm sure it wouldn't take long to find a patron, it would take a while to work ya way up to some clothes."

"So give me some clothes and I'm out of here." I said woodenly, my eyes finally flashing to his.

"Nothing comes for free here." he said, that smirk at the edge of his mouth. I closed my eyes and bit my lip. With the back of his hand he caressed my cheek and I jerked away from him. I was frightened. He was right. I had no money, no job, no place to go. In the time I had found myself plopped into I would be luck to find a job that didn't require my "services". His hand grabbed my chin and held tightly. "Not even protection."

"What do you want." I asked. I looked back at him, the heart that felt interest in him before hardened to stone. I did not like this man, I did not want to play his games, but I had no choice. He shrugged and gave me a lopsided grin as if to say you figure it out. "I'm not having sex with you."

"What else ya got?" his voice was deceptively soft and I could feel tears gather in my eyes, my hand gripping the amulet so hard it would have cut me if it had sharp edges.

"Nothing." I whispered, feeling broken and alone. "Tell me does it get easier as time goes on?"

"What?" He looked at me with genuine curiosity raising an eyebrow at me. I almost smiled at the questioning motion I so often used.

"Using people and tossing them aside like garbage?" My voice was clear, and my head raised as I pulled myself to my full height. I looked at him with haughty distaste. "Apparently I have no choice, I can sleep with you and by that I mean fuck you. Or you're going to throw me on the streets and leave me to starve or prostitute myself out. It's so nice to know there's real gentlemen in the world. Who says chivalry's dead?"

He laughed, threw his head back and laughed. I can say it was not the response I had been expecting, nor one that I appreciated. He moved back, chuckling all the way and he patted me on the cheek before turning his back on me and walking a few feet away. I felt like an amusing child, and normally it would have made me see red, but at the moment I couldn't entirely gage my position. If I couldn't gage it, I couldn't know where I stood to fight.

"Glimmer left some clothes for ya in the bathroom." He told me before looking back at me with a grin. "I ain't gonna take it out in trade, but go get dressed and I'll show ya what ya can do until we find ya a real job." I looked at him in confusion my hackles so raised I didn't know if he was serious. "Go, I promise I won't touch ya again until ya ask me."

I watched him for a moment before hesitantly moving past him and toward the hallway. Since there was only the living area and a crude kitchen, I assumed it was back by the bedrooms. When he didn't move, I took it as a sign he meant what he had said. I stopped partially down the hall to see him standing at it's mouth.

"What makes you think I'll ask you?" I queried unable to help myself. He smiled slowly at me with a sweetness that once again made my heart stutter. I shrugged it off, he was far more dangerous than I had originally thought.

"They always do." he said with a cliché cockiness that made me smile wryly.

"I'm not going to ask you." I promised looking him directly in the eye. I couldn't help, but follow his cliché with another. "Whatever you think of me I don't give my favors, so to speak, out lightly. The only reason you got that kiss is because I wasn't expecting it."

"And when ya weren't expectin' it, you kissed better than any girl I've ever met." He told me, his eyes boring into mine with a serious that made my breath catch. "It says somethin'."

"It says that for a moment I almost let myself get chewed up and spit out by you." I retorted. "It says I'd be stupid to ever let you touch me again."

"Or it'd be the best thing ya ever did." He replied. "I could show ya heaven."

"I bet you say that to all the girls." I said loftily. "I'm not going to fall for it. It's only heaven for a moment."

"So you've seen it?" he asked cocking his head and smirking again.

"I've heard the rumors." I responded tossing my hair and starting down the hall. At the end I found another set of stairs to my left and a bathroom with no doorway just a curtain that pulled across the opening that spanned the entire room. There was a claw foot tub, a pedestal sink, and toilet with a box at the top and and a chain dangling from it.

"I'll be downstairs, waiting." He called and I heard his footsteps moving toward the door.

"I won't be holding my breath." I called back, feeling comforted and bereft as the door opened and shut leaving me alone. I had to get a hold on myself this boy was going to drive me crazy inside a few hours if I didn't. And there was one rule I had to lay down with myself now. No matter how good looking he was, no matter how charming, no matter how interesting, I was not going to get emotionally or physically involved. If I came close, it would be better to throw myself off the Brooklyn Bridge. It would be less suicidal.


	7. Chapter 6

Alone finally I looked around me. There was a mirror hanging above the sink by a tattered ribbon that made me wonder just how much longer it could hold the mirror up. Moving to it I found the reflective surface chipped, pitted, and cracked. It seemed that if it did fall, it wouldn't be too much of a loss. On a small wooden shelf that stood a little over half my height was a pile of neatly folded clothing.

A short chemise lay on the top; a faded blue ribbon tightened and loosened it. Lifting it I found a high necked, long sleeved, button down shirt, a gathered much mended petticoat, a corset that also showed quite a few mends and a faded striped green skirt. With a sigh of relief I noticed my own bloomers, while they were most certainly not period for the Renaissance; they were for the current time. We had all started wearing them after a little boy crawled under one of the court ladies hoops. I had gotten the pattern from a Civil War southern belle costume so it wasn't too far off.

I wrinkled my nose at the corset; it wasn't made like the Elizabethan corset. It fit at mid breast and cinched tightly at the waist and hips. I knew that if cinched as tightly as it was supposed to go it would force my chest and hips forward into a rather unnatural "S" shape. I had no interest in the back bender, but when in Rome… I couldn't face Spot without the appropriate undergarments after insisting I wasn't a prostitute. Hell, even prostitutes wore the proper under garments. Plus it would be just bad manners not to wear the clothing that I was certain Spot's sister hadn't really had to spare, but provided anyway.

The petticoat was relatively fitted at the waist and hips tapering out to a set of ruffles. Holding it up to myself I knew it would be a touch long, but if I hitched it up under the corset it was possible that it wouldn't drag too much.

The window was open and it was already warming outside. I knew by late afternoon I would be miserable in this outfit, and wondered what the hell my forbearers had been thinking when they decided a long sleeved high-necked shirt, petticoats and a heavy skirt should be the fashion.

I pulled on the chemise my bloomers and the petticoat. The chemise was tight in the chest and the skirt a little small around the waist. Apparently Glimmer was skinnier and taller than me, I growled under my breath, if her brother was anything to go by I was already jealous. I held up the corset noticing the trailing garters that were sewn into the bottom of it. One appeared to be tearing away slightly, but I knew I could mend it later tonight. I looked around to find a set of black boots and long stockings. Running them through my hands, I wrinkled my nose at the itchy wool and wondered if I could get away without them. Looking over the boots I decided my heels wouldn't hold up against the thick leather otherwise. Negotiating the garters under the petticoat and bloomers was an exercise in patience, but finally I got it. A hand slapping on the door made jump as I knelt on the floor and tied on the boots. They pinched in the toes and still managed to be a little long for me. Surprisingly the corset was more comfortable I mused as I finished tying the second boot on.

"Are ya primpin' for a ball in there or are ya planning on making it out this morning?" I heard Spot yell through the door before he slapped his hand on the door a few more times.

"Hold on to your knickers." I yelled back as I stood and hurriedly buttoned the shirt, the tiny little mother of pearl buggers slipping and making it difficult. Finally with the shirt buttoned without any of them crooked I pulled the skirt over my head and fastened it huffing at the tightness.

"Hurry the hell up and put yours on." He replied as I prayed I wouldn't pop the buttons and lose my skirt.

"I'm done." I told him opening the door and glaring at him. He raised an eyebrow and looked me up and down.

"You clean up alright." He said as he reached out and tugged at a lock of hair that spilled over my shoulder. " I think I prefer the nightgown, but ya almost look proper."

"Almost?" I queried. "And don't do that." I batted ineffectually at his hand until he let go.

"Ya need to do somethin' with that." He gestured to the heavy black mass that was my hair.

"And what do you propose I do without any hair pins?" I countered. He gave me a grin, but there was a devilish gleam in his eye.

"Personally I'd like impropriety, but we're goin' out in public." He said as he turned and moved down the dark hallway to Glimmer's room. I stood where I was and waited until he reappeared something in his hand. "And while you'd probably sell more pape's with your hair like that I don't want to defend ya if I don't have to."

He gestured with his hand telling me wordlessly to take what was offered. I held out my hand and he dropped a handful of hairpins into it. I looked at them curiously; they were simple bits of metal bent into a U shape with no curvature at all on the straight pieces. They only loosely resembled bobby pins.

"Papes?" I asked latching onto a phrase I didn't recognize while I twisted my hair into a bun and began pinning it. I was surprised at how well they seemed to be holding even if they did dig into my scalp a bit.

"Newspapers." He responded as he watched and shook his head. "No not like that, it makes you too old. Leave some of it down. Most girls put their hair up at sixteen and at that age ya should be in the factory and off the streets."

I gave him an irritated look that just amused him as I took out the pins and released half of my hair pinning the remainder in a small bun.

"Better?" I put my hands on my hips and waited an eyebrow of my own. It only amused him more and he chucked me under the chin in an annoyingly patronizing way.

"You'll do." He grabbed my arm and pulled me to the door, marching me at a pace that forced me to take two steps for every one of his. Half running I stumbled down the stairs, pulling up my slightly too long skirt as I went. I caught a glimpse of a dusty, room with dingy furniture as he pulled me out the door and into the sun that beat onto the cobblestones making the smell of fresh horse dung almost choking.

I didn't have time to respond to the smell as he pulled me down the street and around the corner. Everything was a blur to the senses. The smell of refuse was eye watering, the sun almost too bright, the sound of horse hooves and the chatter of people all whirled into a confusing mass. Normally I am relatively good at getting my bearings, years of hiking in the woods with only trees and rock formations to guide me had trained me to keep an eye out for landmarks. Unfortunately everything was so different to everything I was used to. My brain desperately trying to grasp everything that was so different, the bald truth that what was impossible had happened.

It was one thing to pretend to be in a different time, and something altogether to be there. My mind was assaulted and attempting to adjust to the proof. The horses clopping down the street, the trolley it pulled full of people wearing clothing that screamed turn of the century. The dark carriages and the cheery toot of a Model C sounded and Spot skidded to a stop just before the wave of mucky water splashed in front of us. I ran into him and he glanced back at me curiously for a moment before tugging me on.

Both my hands were free this time and I pulled up my skirts scrambling to keep up with him. He moved quickly giving a hurried wave as someone called out hello. Out of habit I looked to where the voice had come from and lost Spot in the crowd. I breathed a sigh of relief as he back tracked and pulled on my arm.

I found myself out of breath when he finally skidded to a stop at a corner where another boy stood, his brown corduroy hat perched back on his head as he wiped his forehead with handkerchief.

"Heya Spot." He said as he knelt down and plucked a large stack of papers from the pile at his feet and handed them over. "That your new girl?"

"For now." Spot told him as he spit in his hand and held it out to the other boy. "Scram Robin, thanks."

Robin looked me up and down with a questioning look in his eye that made me grit my teeth and look down my nose at him. I gave him an equally invasive look over and shrugged as if I had seen better. He was a skinny red head that bordered on lanky. He looked no more than ten, but and would have had a winsome look to him had he not been ogling me. I looked at Spot wondering if he would respond and he gave me a look that clearly said 'I'm not fighting this battle for you'. Robin gave me a smirk that was reminiscent of Spot and made me only narrow my eyes in a clearly irritated fashion. He covered his copper hair with his faded and patched hat. I watched as he sauntered off, a stack of papers under his arm and a jaunty swagger to his step.

"Really?" I snapped watching him go.

"Hey sink or swim little girl, it's the way of the streets." Spot told me looking intently at my face. My gaze had swung to him as his voice registered. "Ya gotta learn now, I ain't always going to be there to pull ya out of the fire, or the nearest puddle."

"Thanks Romeo, I think I can manage." I growled. "I don't need your protection."

"Yeah, ya do." Spot's voice snarled shaking me out of my peevishness as quickly as I had been doused with water. For a moment it was as if the sun went behind a cloud and a cold breeze washed over me. The tightly controlled temper in his eyes made me shrink back a bit even as I berated myself for backing down. "Ya a babe in the woods, ya may be able to hold your own in Colorado, but this ain't the back woods, this is the city."

"You really think you can scare me with gun toting miners running rampant through town?" I demanded patting myself on the back with the bit of improvisation.

"Ya put on a good game Briar, and I give ya your due for that. It will make thinks a little easier for ya here, but I know a little bit about ya city. It's a fancy resort town with a bunch of rich people enjoying summer homes out there." Spot told me his voice leveling. "Ya don't know a damn thing about how to take care of yourself here. I'll help ya out, but don't push my boys and don't push me. We don't take too kindly from a bunch of lip from a little bit of fluff like yourself."

"I don't live in the city, you ass." I hissed, my temper up and my give a damn lost. "I live in the country. I can out shoot, out fish, out track, and out hunt you any day. I've been to the city some, and I know how you city folk are different, but that doesn't mean I don't know most of you is all talk and no action."

"That's where you're wrong girl." Spot growled pulling me back and I realized in two steps he had cornered me into a dead end alley. "Us Brooklyn boys are all action and a little talk. It would be very detrimental to make that mistake. I mean it Briar, don't make me choose between ya or my boys. I'm their leader and I'll let them rip ya apart."

"I don't see you throwing a helpless woman to the wolves." I said softly, my anger quickly doused at his words. We stood in the shadow of a building and I shivered a bit at the steely look in his eyes

"If it's between my sister and me or you, I'll let the pack have ya." He promised. "Don't test the limits; they don't deal well with brash women. They have their own ways of dealing with it and I won't always be there to pull ya out of it. The next door neighbor regularly beats his wife into submission and there ain't anyone that's going to do a damn thing."

"You'd let a man beat his wife?" I challenged, outraged and stunned at the thought.

"It's his wife. She made the bad choice of marrying him." Spot said with a shrug, glancing around him judging the crowd just a measly few feet away. "I can't do anything."

I looked down to see his hands were clenched and white on his papers. Looking back up, I could see emotions moving for the first time in those glittering blue orbs. Rage and regret warred with each other, and I knew he wasn't happy about letting it happen. For a moment I could see a helplessness that infuriated him. For that one moment he touched me, his helpless anger at what another man could do to his wife and he couldn't do anything to stop it. There was something noble about him, something that reached into my heart. He grabbed my hand with a slap that pulled me straight out of my momentary judgment lapse. He squeezed it in warning and dropped it before it had even registered that I had lifted my hand to his cheek in comfort.

We stared at each other for an instant before the embarrassed blush rose in my cheeks and he gave me that signature smirk that jerked my heart right back into my chest. I gave myself a shake and looked away. I was mortified that for the second time my heart had almost tumbled into his hands. I was confused and completely unsure as to why I couldn't control my emotions around this man.

"Don't make the mistake of making me a white knight Briar." He warned. "I'll use it against ya in a heartbeat. Ya wouldn't be the first girl that thought I could save her and ended up giving me far more that she meant to. I'm good at taking advantage."

I kept a few feet away and watched him for the rest of the morning, he peddled his papers with an ease and a charm that made me all the more wary of him. The lies that tumbled from his lips astounded me at their inventiveness and cleverness. I worked at a boutique and I was no stranger to embroidering the truth, but he didn't just embroider it, he embellished beyond a bit of fancy work and into a work of art.

"Want to give it a try?" he asked as the sun was passing the noon position. I shook my head and bit my lip. "Not much of a salesman?"

"I've sold clothing to rich ladies." I answered. "But they walk into the shop already wanting to buy something. It's not hard to upsell. I'm not very good at making someone want something they might not otherwise have bought at all. Nor am I good at taking advantage of people and making them feel sorry for me."

"You'll give up that pride in a minute if ya were hungry enough." He told me. "Speaking of, come on, I'll buy ya lunch."

"And what's the cost of lunch Spot?" I inquired. "I don't think I want to be any further in your debt."

"Ya learn real quick Briar." He replied with a genuine smile. "Glim's meeting me at McConnell's for lunch; she'll take ya back to the boarding house. She's got school this afternoon, but she'll show ya how to check in the boys. If ya can put together somethin' for dinner I'll buy lunch."

"I'll do my best with what you have." I promised he spit in his hand and held it out. I looked at him in a revolted way. "What do you expect me to do with that?"

My response just made him laugh. He wiped his palm on his pants before taking my arm and leading me down the street. My feet were aching as we walked, my calves burning. There was an itching tickle of sweat as it made its way down my spine. It was muggy and hot, in a way I was completely unused to. It gets hot in Colorado, it can easily hit a hundred or near on an early August day, but it's a dry heat. A heat that sweat and water cool with a good breeze, but on the East coast it sticks to you. It wraps around you like a hot damp towel and refuses to let you go. My hair was sticking to the back of my neck and I pulled my hair up since Spot wasn't going to be using me as his dumb sister anymore. By dumb I mean the more traditional usage of the term. I wasn't necessarily stupid, just unable to talk and therefore unable to communicate and I guess in a backwards way stupid. We neared a dark green awning and a wooden door with the works McConnell's burned into the door.

"Stay close to me and don't encourage any talk from my boys." Spot said quietly, his breath tickling my ear, and the heat of his body suddenly very close. "Just agree with what both they say and I say, got it. I don't care how outraged it makes ya, go along. I can't chalk ya up to a relative now, ya paraded out my door wearing pretty well nothing. While I haven't let a girl stay before, there's always a first time, and as long as they think your mine, you're off limits. I'm stickin' my neck and my sister's neck out for ya. Do not under any circumstances let that temper of yours out."

His hand was gripping the nape of my neck and squeezed to punctuate every word that he thought I should pay particular attention to.

"Okay." I agreed looking at him worriedly and wide eyed. His eyes bored into mine trying to press upon me the importance of what he was saying. I got the feeling he was dead serious and a wrong move from me could get him ripped apart.

"A babe in the woods." He sighed as he opened the door and pushed me through.

"What do you mean?" I asked in a hushed tone as my eyes took a moment to adjust from the bright sunlight of beyond that heavy wooden door and the dimmer light inside the restaurant.

"Ya keep lookin' at me with those wide innocent eyes and I might start feeling bad for taking advantage of ya." He told me with a brief smile.

"You're not taking advantage of me." I said quietly. "Not yet."

"That's right, not yet and don't ya forget it." He countered as he held me in place by the nape of my neck and dipped his head down. I was caught off guard yet again, my world spinning out as his lips touched mine. Somewhere back in the deep recesses of my mind I told myself I needed to quit letting him kiss me, it threw all of my good sense out the window. A few hoots and hollers brought me back to myself and he pulled away before I could stiffen and push him away.

"Heya boys, meet Briar." He called out. "Glim take Briar and feed her will ya, I've got business."

And with that he sauntered off dumping me into the hands of a golden haired, girl with the face of an angel and something glimmering in the back of her blue-green eyes. I felt bereft as she shook her neatly braided hair and pulled me out of the center of attention and to a table further in the shadows.

"So, how of that was my brother protecting you and how far did you let him after I left to get my papes this morning." She asked in soft musical voice, intentionally pitching it for my ears alone. I glanced around at all the smirking boys and back to her. I was a little dazed by the size of the crowd and the candidness of this girl.

"He hasn't gotten any farther than he did in the doorway." I told her, stopping and looking her directly in the eye.

"What about the boys seeing you in the doorway in my nightgown?" She demanded.

"News travels fast." I said levelly, knowing instinctively her bullshit meter was as good as my own. She raised her eyebrow in the same manner as her brother, making me smile in response to see that look mirrored by her. I had a feeling here was the one person I could by my usual smart assed self to without reprisals I couldn't take. "Let's just say your brother tried to collect payment for the help you insisted on and I refused to pay in the manner in which he expected me to. I thought I'd take my chances on the street in your nightgown than let him go any farther."

"Stupid." She said with a smirk that told me she probably would have reacted the same way. "I mean after you were out of the apartment and in the street it wouldn't have taken long for another man to force you? Why not just willing to give my brother what he wanted at least you would have known where you stood."

"Would I have really? Besides would you have respected me at all?" I asked looking up at her with wry smile. "Just in case you were wondering I would have fought tooth and nail to keep anyone else from touching me if I didn't want them to."

"The real question is how hard can a little bit of fluff like you fight?" she questioned in an off handed tone, unconsciously asking the same question her brother had. She gestured for me to sit across from her at the table before signaling to someone behind me. Someone set down two heavy glasses full of water that sloshed over the brim and thick ceramic bowl full of some sort of stew.

"I'm a little tougher than a little bit of fluff." I assured her, my eyes again looking directly into hers. It was half warning against her to try, and half assurance that I didn't need her to protect me. She might have been the deciding factor in taking me in off the street, but she wasn't about to let anyone into her or her brother's life that she didn't deem worthy. "You'd be amazed at how much of a fight I could put up if I needed to."

"Eat." Was her only response as she gestured to the bowl with her spoon. "If you can continue to hold out against my brother, I might actually respect you."

"Me too." I said with a dry laugh.


	8. Chapter 7

_A.N.: I know I should look this over more throughly and will. However I am too excited at getting more than one chapter completed in six month span. Bear with me please! I'm down a BETA. - Raeghann_

Glimmer didn't have much more to comment on as we ate. The stew was chewy and rather tasteless. I grimaced at the thought of Spot holding this meal over my head, but I had skipped breakfast in all of the excitement and couldn't afford to skip this one. Especially since I wasn't certain where my next meal would come from or what they had for me to put together. I ate mechanically studying the people around me, and by people I mean the boys.

They crowded around Spot as though he was the sun and they were morning glories. All wore faded and patched clothing, some so ragged it was a wonder they were still wearing them. I pondered if it was for the benefit of selling more papers or because they truly couldn't afford better. I assumed they must all be in the paper selling business as all of them had papers on their person. Some had more than others and only a few had none at all.

The older boys were ringed closer to Spot fanning out into some boys that I worried about being on the streets. They hardly looked old enough to walk let alone be running around Brooklyn. One particular boy caught my eye as he swung a shoddily made wooden sword at the head of a boy twice his size. His coppery blonde hair caught in the little sun that made its way in through the grimy windows. His bright bottle green eyes met mine for a moment before he looked back at his opponent.

"The boy to Spot's right is Aces and the one to his left is Marco." Glimmer's voice was muted, but I could clearly hear her over the scraping noise her bowl made against the table as she pushed it aside. "Both are up to take over Brooklyn once my brother resigns."

"Resigns for what?" I asked as looked back to where Spot sat on a barstool sopping up his own stew with a bit of bread.

"He runs the Brooklyn Newsies." The response was said with a pride that had me looking back at her.

"Newsies?" My question furrowed her brow. I realized that I should know what a 'newsie' was and it puzzeled her that I didn't.

"We sell papers, the morning, afternoon, and evening edition. " Glimmer said, her eyes studying me as she said it.

"We don't get the paper where I'm from. At least not without a half a day's ride into town, it wasn't worth it every day. My father always got when we went in for supplies, but that was once a month in the summer and longer if we couldn't get through the snows. " I improvised. There was no way to explain to her that the reason we didn't have Newsies is because it was on our doorstep every morning. Or that we could purchase them from vendor or a machine on the corner. Or that we really didn't even need a hard copy of the newspaper where I came from. My phone updated me every morning with a AP news brief and I read whatever headline caught my fancy from a screen I could hold in my hand. Internet and cell phones were not a can of worms that would be easily explained away. She nodded seeming to take my answer at face value for now. "So he runs the Newsies, why would he want to retire?'

"He's getting too old." She informed me holding her glass between both hands as she settled back. "Newsies are all kids, once we get too old people stop buying from us. With any luck he can pass the leadership over and start work full time at the factory. He can't be a kid forever, he should be settling down soon anyway."

"What factory?" I asked curiously glancing back to the group of boys. The tall blonde boy to Spot's right nudged the boy next to him with a smirk and a chin lift toward me. I looked back at Glimmer quickly before Spot realized I was observing him.

"He knows." She said in an offhanded way that caught me off guard and made me frown questioningly at her. "He knows you're watching him. He's been leader for too long not to take notice when someone's watching him. If it's a man he has to be aware in case they are studying him for a weakness and it's a woman…"

"He's paying attention because he wants to bang her." I finished as she trailed of and shrugged in a way that told me everything I needed to know.

"Bang?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow in a way that was incredibly reminiscing of her brother, I smiled momentarily before searching my brain for a suitable response. I had been strongly warned that Spot didn't want his little sister learning loose morals from me. Unfortunately my time was quite a bit more lenient on what a woman knew about relations with a man than what Glimmer might or might not be aware of.

"Have improper relations with." I provided flushing and spreading my hands. She nodded a small smile playing around her cupid's bow lips. "It might be best if you don't tell your brother I said that. He already thinks I know more than I should about all things, especially about relations between men and women."

"Look," Glimmer told me moving her glass to the side and placing her elbows on the table to lean closer to me. "I don't know your story, at least not any more than you told Spot. Neither of us believes most of it, but that isn't any more unusual than all the boys in this restaurant. I don't care, as long as you prove useful and try not let your mouth run away with you Spot won't say much. My brother has tried to shield me for all of my life, but in all honesty you can't grow up around a group of boys like these without learning plenty of things he would rather I not know. I understand far more than I let him know and I would suggest you follow my lead. The only other advice I can give is to stay out of his bed."

"I'd rather not get into his bed." I sighed, running my finger along the rim of my glass before raising my eyes to hers and looking at her with frankness and directness. "I've met men like him before. I've watched them chew women up and spit them out. I have no desire to end up as a notch on his bedpost. I have no intention of letting that happen. Besides there is a man…"

"Back home?" Glimmer added when she realized I had no intention of finishing that sentence.

"Not anymore." I whispered blinking back the tears that sprang to my eyes with a surprising swiftness. "Not unless something changes drastically."

"Is that why you left?" she pressed. I shrugged, the feeling of loneliness enveloping me. There was no one here that knew me. No one that would care if I was gone, no one that even knew I existed except a few street kids that wouldn't miss me. I glanced back up to see Glimmer watching me closely, but there was a shine in her eyes that she was trying to hide. The light of a born romantic.

"No," I replied picking up my glass if only to hide the trembling of my hands. "He doesn't exist." Not yet I added to myself. I closed my eyes for a moment and pictured Adam as I had last seen him. His dark hair glowing chestnut in the sunlight, his blue eyes twinkling, and I remembered the happy surprise of his kiss. Once again the amulet I had tucked into my shirt heated, but it faded before I even realized it had happened.

"Are you alright?' Glimmer's voice held concern as she touched my hand briefly. My eyes flew open and met the ever shifting colors in her eyes. "Are you getting another headache?"

"No, I'm fine." I breathed rubbing my eyes and giving her a wan smile.

"Glim, you take Briar back to the lodging house." Spot made me jump as he spoke, his hand coming down on my shoulder at the same time. "Show her where everything is and show her how to check in the boys and where to put their money. Briar, if you aren't there when I get back I don't want to see you, and if I find you with one of the boys you're out."

"Don't worry Spotty boy." I declared rolling his hand off my shoulder and smiling sweetly up at him. "You're the only boy for me."

His eyes narrowed at the slight exaggeration of the word boy, but it was too quick for him to know for certain if I meant anything by it.

"Don't call me Spotty." He warned as he wrapped his arm around me and placing a brief kiss on my lips before releasing me so quickly I stumbled back a few steps.

"How long am I going to have to pretend to want you?" I asked batting my eyes in a ridiculous fashion that had Glimmer choking back a laugh.

"As long as you want to keep the other boys at bay." He said tugging on a stray piece of my hair, I couldn't help batting his hands away.

"Stop that." I hissed between teeth clenched behind a grimace/ smile. "I hate it when people pull on my hair. I'll chop it off rather than have people pulling on it."

"That would be a shame." Spot replied with his signature smirk as he gently rubbed the strand between his fingers. His eyes locked on mine as he lifted it to his lips and kissed it.

"Okay now that's just too much." I said under my breath and turn to flounce off. Luckily Glimmer was already standing and gestured for me to head for the door.

"Get under your skirt a little Briar?" he called after me.

"Not a chance Conlon." I said with a quick luring smile and a wink, least his boys think there was anything unusual about my response, seeing as I was apparently supposed to be in a relationship with him.

"I'll be late, Glim you get yourself to school as soon as you drop her off." Spot drilled a finger in the general direction of her sister. She gave him a flash of her dimple as she moved ahead of me to the door. "Marco send my birdies out will ya? For all we discussed."

It seemed that Spot had dismissed us since he completely turned his focus away and we slipped out the door. I followed Glimmer who had taken off at a pace that could easily keep up with her brother and possibly give him a run for his money. It was everything I could do to match her pace and not lose her in the crowd. Once again I was completely thrown off and couldn't get my bearings as she wove through the crowds and through the streets with the ease only a native could manage. She didn't slow until we stopped just in front of a grey stone building, she gestured to the door that had once been a vivid green and was peeling a bit. The building didn't look as old as some of the others that surrounded it, but the door said it hadn't been kept up either.

"Go on in, Aces will make sure the boys don't slip by without paying. Go ahead up the stairs first door on the first landing you come to. Mimic is usually the first one back since he's one of the youngest, the first boy will ring the bell when they come in." She instructed pointing to the door. I noticed for the first time the two books she carried over her shoulder, held together by an old belt that looked as if it had been ripped at the end. "I have to get to class."

I started up the steps and turned back to make sure this was really where I was supposed to be to find she had disappeared, I barely made out the flash of golden hair before it disappeared around the corner. Seeing no other choice I let myself in through the green door and found myself at the foot of a set of stairs. To my right was a dusty room with various chairs, no of which matched in various places. A swinging doorway was set into the wall. Wondering to my left I found a long scared wooden table. I ran my hand along the edge and grimaced at the grime that came away. A set of cards lay on the table as if they had been quickly discarded, a bottle situated about six inches away and a partially smoked cigar that had burned into the table as it had gone out.

A large fireplace took up nearly all of the wall in front of me and another swinging door sat in the corner of the room against the wall where the stairs must be. A faded dingy couch and an arm chair that appeared to be or at one time been the target of a cat's claws stood right in front of the fireplace. I wondered back to the stairs and into the other side of the house, a small cubby of a room sat just under the staircase. There was a counter that was covered in dust and only the book that lay on it seemed to have disturbed the area recently.

It reminded me of what I had thought Sleeping Beauty's castle must have looked after a hundred years of neglect. I am exaggerating since with total neglect the entire building would have crumbled after a hundred years, but it seemed as if everyone had just picked up and left at the drop of a hat and left everything behind. What it really looked like is a pack of rough and tumble boys had taken over the building. If it weren't for the drapes covering the windows there would be absolutely no indication a woman had ever lived here. The dust covering everything finally ticked my nose enough to force a sneeze out of me. It echoed like a gunshot through the stillness of the building in an almost eerie way.

With a shrug I remembered Glimmer's instructions and climbed the stairs to the first landing. Looking up the stairs I could see it stopped at a second landing where it branched out on either side and a very narrow steep set of stairs climbed from there into what I figured was probably the attic. I twisted the tarnished brass handle and let myself into a room that I recognized. Now that I was fed, dressed, and not fighting with Spot I could take a good look around. A couple of what looked like kerosene lanterns sat small scared table by the door and on another next to the couch. A very small dining table sat in the opposite corner another lamp in its center. The kitchen sat directly to my right an open room with a small sink, a couple of cupboards that created a work space, a wood burning stove, and a chest built into the wall.

More than likely the chest was some sort of early fridge, probably with a block of ice to keep food fresh for as long as possible. If I was a betting woman I would place odds that there wasn't much ice in there. Ice was expensive, but necessary and food didn't last more than a couple of days. I wondered what I had to work with for dinner, but set that aside as I moved back down the hallway to further explore my surroundings. Two door sat open allowing sunlight into the hallway that had no other forms of lighting. The light was shifting from East to west and looking out the window in Glimmer's room I saw three stories of hanging lines, one of which my chemise was currently drying on. I made a mental note to thank Glimmer since I was pretty certain her brother hadn't washed my clothing. Moving further down the hall I stepped into Spot's room.

Both rooms were small barely holding the furniture in it. Glimmer's the smaller of the two of course. I wondered if Spot 'settled down' where his family was going to fit. If I hadn't been certain Spot lived in this room the scent of him hung in the air. It wasn't unpleasant; it was a warm masculine scent that reminded me of sunshine and clean sweat. An unmade bed stood in the center, larger than his sister's also. It too was a brass bed, a little fancier than Glimmers. It was tarnished, but on closer inspection the leaf pattern that swirled in it was a work of art. A faded and patched quilt lay thrown from where he had tossed it back as he had risen from bed. A chest was at the foot, nothing fancy, actually an old horse blanket chest that he had salvaged from some place. His chest of drawers was in disarray, the drawers open and shut haphazardly, clothing spilling from the open drawers at will. The top held a simple white porcelain bowl with an ewer that held a chip with the tail of a crack moving a third of the way down. Scattered around the bowl was coins and various odds and ends he had collected in his pockets and tossed down at the end of the day.

One pillow had been tossed on the floor, whether because Spot was a restless sleeper or because it got in his way I didn't know. The other still held the dent where his head had rested. I knew I didn't have much to offer, but I could at least straighten for him. Be useful Glimmer had warned me, so useful he was going to get. I didn't care much if he wanted me to clean his room or not. Honestly it never occurred to me that he might not want me in his personal domain. The day was barely half over and I could spend all of the rest of it preparing dinner, even if I was going to have to cook it on a wood burning stove.

I vaguely remembered a bucket in the bathroom and I retrieved it along with some rags that had been folded neatly on the shelves. The bottom held the rattiest ones that I assumed were for cleaning as the next one held newer ones and a couple of rough clothes equally neatly folded that looked like they were used for toweling off. The window was still open pumping in the wet sticky air that had followed me all day and was currently causing sweat to trickle down my back. Deciding it was too hot to work fully clothed and believing myself to be alone any how I stripped down to my chemise and petticoat. My legs were red and chafed around where the itchy wool had been rubbing all day and the beginnings of a heat rash were showing as I took off the uncomfortable leggings. I debated taking off the corset, but decided that with my generous cleavage it might be as uncomfortable to do any sort of cleaning without it I left it for the time being. If it got in my way too much I could always take it off later, but I wasn't certain I had the time if Spot made an unscheduled stop home to get the corset back on. I had a feeling it might not due to get caught wearing nearly nothing in his bedroom.

A slight breeze cooled me a little as I took off the shirt that was almost clinging to me. My arms glistened slightly in the light and I wrinkled my nose in distaste, maybe a cool bath after I was done cleaning would be a good idea. It certainly wouldn't make any difference before. Resigning myself to the lack of fans, air conditioning, or modern inventions such as deodorant, I set to work. I thanked my lucky stars I could still make out the scent of the rose oil I habitually wore during faire season.

I heard a faint whistle from out Spot's window as I set down the bucket and moved to his bed to make it. It was followed by another, I remember thinking it was odd that it had a surprising musicality for birds. There was something richer to it. I pondered it for only a moment before fluffing his pillow and forcing myself not to be a creeper and smell it. His room wasn't as dusty as the rooms downstairs and someone had defiantly made an effort to clean it. Smoothing the quilt into place, I turned to his chest of drawers, two white porcelain canisters sat on either side of the ewer and basin. I lifted the cracked lid on one to find it partially filled with coins. Carefully I collected the coins that were scattered about the wooden surface and poured them inside. Picking out the bits of newspaper and other scrapes I took them to the wood burning stove in the kitchen figuring they would make a good starter for the fire.

Going back into his room I put the other odds and ends into the other canister that was currently empty. I didn't want to throw away something he might deem a treasure and I might think was trash. I had found over the years boys to be very odd about keeping things that I was certain was trash. Since the last thing I wanted to do was anger my savior and protector I erred on the side of caution. There were a few marbles that I saw and admired as I put them into the canisters thinking Spot was a little old for marbles. There were a few loose and rather unremarkable stones that I also put into the canister before closing it. Carefully I lifted everything on the dresser and dusted it. I noticed the faint scent and gloss to the wood that came from the beeswax used for polishing.

A candle stood on the small bedside table and cleaned the surface and removed the disgusting cup filled with cigarette butts. A small sick part of me had to look to see if there was anything left of them to smoke. I'm not proud of it, but my current predicament would send the most stalwart of ex-smokers back. Luckily, or unluckily depending on how you look at it there was nothing left and I took it into the kitchen to empty into the stove. With a grimace I turned on the water and did my best to clean the cup before drying it and taking it back into his room.

The apartment was almost too quiet as I worked, even with the busy bright noise coming from the street and buildings outside the window. Seeing as how it was only me and myself to annoy with my voice I began singing. There's something to be said for a small hole in the wall apartment, the less of it there is the less there is to clean.


End file.
